The I Word
by Lexa Rawr
Summary: His soulmate was sent to kill him. This seemingly-major monkey-wrench in their relationship actually pales in comparison to what else is in store for Jacob and Anya! Jacob x OC, AU
1. someone wants you dead, jacob black

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr!

CHAPTER ONE.

* * *

"His name is Jacob Ephraim Black." Niall's voice was as business-like as ever, clear and educated in spite of his Irish accent. It made him sound silly, to be honest, the strange contradiction of sophistication and... not-sophistication humorous. I'd worn my mask for so many years, though, that keeping my own expression serious was easier than anything else. _This life isn't supposed to be easy, Anneliese. _I could still hear Kei's words to this day, the brutal honesty in her chocolate-colored eyes. "Born January 14th, 1990 in La Push, Washington. Indian Reservation. Quileutes." I wasn't sure why Niall ever bothered with these, I always got this information downloaded to my phone, but he always did like to inject himself into everything. "So he's 25." _Wow, Niall! You can do math! Want a gold star? _I swear this man has a sixth sense, always will, and this was backed up by the way he glanced toward me right at that very moment, his green eyes questioning. He had kind eyes. The scar that ran right across one brow, though, said exactly why that thought was not a good indication of his personality. This was a man that had killed.

I was a woman who had killed, too. I was in no position to judge, not that I ever did. "Hm?" I raised my brow at him. He did a half-shrug and went back to skimming the target's profile.

"Finished high school, absent frequently, remains in La Push today. That's the thing 'bout small towns, they're like tar pits. Hard to get out of."

"Speaking from experience?" I'd been trained to push, to pry, to _learn._ All information was valuable, whether it was ever used or not.

"I lived in a small town once. It was damned hard t'get out of, let me tell you..." Niall had been trained to be physically sharp and not much else, as far as I knew. But he was a nice enough guy. As nice as guys were in this business, that is. "Anyway. He's a mechanic," he cautioned, "he'll prolly have plenty o' objects t' use as weapons handy all th' time."

I half-smiled, "I guess I'll have to lure him out."

"He ain't married 'r anythin', should be easy enough. 'Specially since y're pretty." The Organization wouldn't have me if I wasn't pretty enough to them, he knew that. I said nothing, waiting. "Anyway. Gotch'er plane tickets, docs, everythin' in this bag. L.L. Bean, baby, you're a travelin' photographer. That lens cost us eight grand, so ya better be thankful."

"Pocket change," I murmured, hefting the backpack over my shoulder. "Ugh. I guess this means I'm gonna have to wear khakis?" I could hear someone approaching, so I expected him to get all serious again. I know I did, straightening and making sure I looked perfectly ready and capable to handle anything. I kind of was.

He grinned and feigned apology, to my surprise, "'fraid so. It's summer, you can just wear some shorts."

"Don't sound so hopeful, Niall! It's rainy in Washington, don't you know?" He jumped to his feet at the voice he'd obviously not been expecting. "Tsk, tsk, O'leary, already rusty?" Ah, Tara had never been good with tact. She didn't even notice the flinch she'd gotten as a response, swinging her hazel gaze to me. "You're on assignment? Damn. I was hoping to hit the clubs tonight, I've gotta get close to this one guy, and you're always so good to take with on assignments like this." I could feel my frown as I stared at her for a second, not sure what she was trying to achieve with that statement. She made it sound so... dirty. Not that I was clean, no, I've a lot of blood on my hands, but... I wasn't a whore. Tara didn't mind sleeping with some of the targets if they struck her fancy before killing them, whereas I did the deed before doing... well... the other one.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

She made a noncommittal sound, tilting her head oh-so-slightly toward Niall. Grudgingly, but surreptitiously, I glanced over at him, noticed the way he was gripping the edge of the desk in this office. _Oh, shit. _He can't possibly be jealous? Workplace relationships ended badly, _especially_ in jobs that worked in the moral grey area. Oh, who was I kidding? Morality had nothing to do with what we did. It may have at one point, but... now it was all for the money. In the end, it always would be.

"Wonder what this kid did," I said, well, blurted.

"He's a year older than you." Niall reminded me, still looking decidedly uncomfortable. "And to answer your question..." He grabbed the papers, flipping through them. His brow knitted. "Er... That's... Classified." It was uncommon for our Superiors to not tell us the reasoning for a hit. Usually it'd be, say, trafficking, or corruption, or that they were a threat for what we stood for. Whatever we stood for in this day and age, that is. If it was classified... then it was purely for the money.

"Fair enough," I said, not showing that it even bothered me a teeny-tiny bit. I grabbed the ticket that was tucked in one of the outer pockets of the edge of the pack, glancing at the departure date. "Well, I've got a plane to catch. So sorry to have to miss it, Tara," I played along, for now, with the hope of discouraging Niall and setting him straight without having to be upfront about it. "Best of luck."

"You, too. Doubt you need it."

"Can't hurt anything." I replied, smiling at her and nodding to Niall. "Thanks for the info. See ya both later."

"How long do you reck'n you'll be gone?" He sounded too hopeful.

I shrugged carelessly, pretending to think for a moment. "It varies from assignment to assignment, Niall. I'll keep you guys posted. Later."

I felt both of their gazes on my back the whole way to the door, but I wasn't thinking about them anymore.

_Who wants you dead, Jacob Ephraim Black?_


	2. and finding you was so easy

**The "I" Word**  
By Lexa Rawr

Chapter Two.

* * *

At SeaTac, I called in, as I always did, before I really began the assignment. I leaned against the railing, watching the blur of people as they brushed by. How easy it was, blending in, to just go with the flow and be virtually invisible. Like a fish in a school or a tree in the forest. When there were so many like you, you simply became irrelevant to the bigger picture.

"You know the drill, Wolf," not the most feminine of nicknames, but it had stuck, "the encrypted phone is for emergencies only. This will be our last conversation. Don't call us unless things are seriously fucked up or the target has been dealt with." How many ways did we weasel around saying 'dead?' Dealt with, neutralized, handled, bumped, the list went on and on and on.

"Uh huh, Piper." He had a girlie nickname as far as I was concerned, that Niall.

"Oh, and remember t' hide the camera equipment. They're picky about that kind of thing on reservations."

"Duly noted." Fortunately, I'd left the camera in my backpack, so I looked like your typical hiker. "I can be sneaky."

"I'd hide the phone, too, it's too fancy for your supposed pay grade."

"And the eight-thousand-dollar lens...?"

"Fancy cameras are dorky, Wolf." Every time I heard my call sign I remembered one of my first conversations in Training.

_"You're from Alaska?"_

_I heaved a sigh, glancing over at the redhead in the bunk next to me. "Yeah."_

_"Aren't there... like... wolves and shit up there?" Asked the person in the bunk _above_ me.  
_

_"Yup." Oh boy, that line of questioning... now they're going to ask if I'm Eskimo and if I lived in an igloo. And if I'm happy to see the sun for the first time. Fucking great.  
_

_"Haha, I'll bet she dances with the wolves, eh, wolfgirl?"_

_"Awoooooooo!"_

_"Shut up."_

_"Nighty night, Wolf."_

"Lovely. Dorky dork dork."

"Talk like that and you'll have no problem."

"Uh huh." Someone was watching me. Even though they were well out of earshot, I played it safe in case they read lips. "Yes, yes, I packed my underwear." I rolled my eyes.

Niall chuckled, "What kind?"

"I'll call every night, Grandpa."

"Hey!"

"So don't worry."

"_Grandpa?_ That's cold!"

"Make sure you take your medicine. I know how you get when you don't take your medicine..."

"Oh-ho."

"Love you too, bye." I hung up the phone, immediately sliding it into the pocket of my too-thick-of-a-jacket. I'd always hated that, how overdressed tourists were. Well, if I was going to play the part...

I pulled out one of the brochures that Niall had printed for me. "La Push, Washington..." I murmured to myself, regarding the name and the sunset picture on the cover for a moment. Washington wasn't all that much different from the AK, just warmer and more crowded. Well, I could believe the latter part so long as I was in Seattle, I supposed. La Push wasn't very big, all things considered. It was a decent sized community, by Alaskan standards, but not even a blip on the map by the rest of the country's.

"La Push, huh?" A voice startled me. I looked up, surprised. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya." He had dark eyes, tanned skin. Native, I decided. Impossibly tall, too. He wasn't the kind of guy to blend into a crowd, not with muscles that size. Odd... Most everyone here was wearing at least a hoodie, not a T-shirt with frayed sleeves. Those were sunny day clothes, not rainy ones. Judging from how his jet black hair, cut handsomely short, was spiked in every which way, he'd been outside. Not to mention that his clothes were drenched.

Twisting my lips in an embarrassed smile, I played with the edges of my hair, laughing a laugh that was deliberately too high in pitch. With a slight shrug of my shoulder, "S'okay. It's just... easy to think you're the only person. When so many others are around, I mean."

"That so?"

"I know. It doesn't make sense –"

"No, it does. It does." He nodded seriously, looking at me with an intensity that made my mouth dry. Swallowing, hard, I wondered why I nearly forgot why I was here, that I needed to be in control of everything, and that genuine reactions rarely ended well.

"Uh, how'd you know? About... La Push? You psychic?"

"Psychic?" He gave a laugh that bordered on uneasy. "No, I just, uh..." He gestured to my hands, to the brochure that they held a little too tightly. "We've got those things everywhere back home." He rolled his eyes. "But I think people already know where they are, they don't need a brochure telling them about it 'cause they probably already got it, which told them to go there, so they went there, and they... I'm rambling. I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm just... confused as to what you just said, ehe." _Ditzy dorky, ditzy dorky..._ I had to keep reminding myself.

"I am, too. But uh... yeah. I'm from La Push." He smiled, his eyes lighting up. "You... uh... you know anyone there?"

"Me? Oh, no. No. I'm just... a tourist." I said, injecting guiltiness in there. "I like to travel. Go places, yanno? I just... Cashed out my savings and took this summer off."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"I know, I know. It sounds crazy. And it is. Crazy, I mean." I played with the zipper to one of my coat's pockets.

"Nah. Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it is. It is. I was just in Alaska this past week."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Little coastal village on this one peninsula. Used to be a big city. Ships would go there straight from Seattle! How crazy is that?"

"Crazy."

"I know, right? Oh, I'm sorry. Sorry for rambling about stuff you probably don't even care about." Emotions could be feigned so easily, all it took was a tilt of the head, a lopsided smile, and some stiffness of the shoulders to indicate embarrassment, discomfort.

"No, no! It's okay. Man, Alaska..." He hadn't taken his eyes off of me this whole time. It was... unnerving. "Very cool. You got a ride to La Push, or...?"

"Ah, no... I was planning on seeing if a cab company was willing to take me."

"I can give you a ride, if you want." He offered, hesitantly.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"No, no! It's no bother, really..."

I looked at him, making sure I looked more cautious than contemplative. He looked like a teenager, eager and young. He might be strong, judging from the thickness of his arms and how he towered over me (even at my decent five-foot-ten height), but I had training, knowledge, experience. I'd be willing to take my chances if he was a bad sort of guy.

"I mean, I don't want to... I know I probably sound like a creep." I shook my head quickly. Having a local as an acquaintance would be beneficial, he'd know his way well around the town. Plus, a potential free ride was a potential free ride.

"If it's not a bother, I would really appreciate it. I'm good with hiking," I'd tracked a man through thirty square miles of rugged wilderness once, armed with just a dagger and a hell of a lot of patience. I'd won, in the end. "So, if you want to drop me off anywhere I'm sure I can find –'

"Nah, where you headed?"

Niall had said he had made reservations. I turned over the brochure, saw a name and an address written down.

"Clearwater Bed & Breakfast. You know where that is?" He grinned and nodded.

"Yeah. I'm a friend of the family. It'll be no problem, really. I've just got a friend I need to pick up and then we can go?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to –"

"Nah, it's totally okay. He won't mind." He said this, finality definite in his tone. "Wanna come with? Or I can find you? You have a cell? I think I saw you talking on one."

Suspicious, "What?"

"Oh, jeez. That sounded like I was being a stalker. Dammit, you probably think I'm like – like..." A strange, _tortured_ look crossed his face, but it was gone in an instant. He looked at me and that warm light returned to his eyes. "Nothing. I saw the brochure, got... uh... curious. And you were on the phone so I waited."

"Oh, yeah. The thing is that it's just about dead," the lie sprang easily to my lips, "and I'm 95 percent sure I forgot the charger at home." I pursed my lips a bit, looking at him apologetically. "If you don't mind me tagging along? I don't have anything left to do here. I can wait, though, if that would be –"

"If you wanna come with you can! He's over in that area over there, or he's supposed to be." He nodded his head toward where he had come from (judging from the angle his shoulders had been pointed when I'd first looked at him, for I hadn't seen his approach). "His name is Seth. Seth Clearwater. His mom's the one who runs Clearwater B&B, actually." I fell in step next to him, well, a half-step behind him, actually.

"Oh! Okay. Haha, you weren't lying when you said you were a family friend."

"I'd never lie to you." I paused, nearly freezing in place at the solemnity of his expression, of his words. He coughed awkwardly, trying to save face. "Er... Nevermind."

I nodded, jerking back as someone rushed between us, obviously in a hurry. Reflexively, I'd braced myself, half-crouched and poised to defend myself if need be. Straightening, I was suddenly face-to-face with the boy, he was waytooclose. Way. Too. Close. "Um..."

"Sorry." He stepped back, letting go of my arm, an arm I hadn't even realized he'd grabbed. He scratched his head, nervously stepping back. "C'mon. I just... er... I was worried. I thought that guy might've bumped ya."

"N-nope. No harm done." _Ditzy dorky. _It wasn't hard to pull off, though, not right now. Something was decidedly _off_ about this whole thing. I didn't like it one bit. Weren't we supposed to trust our instincts? I reached back into my pocket. "I think... I think my phone just beeped."

"It didn't," he said, sounding almost automatic.

"I could've sworn..." I opened up the phone, clicking through the menu and into the saved files. There were about twenty, all with random names ranging from MOCHA to EAGLE. Niall had told me which one had the information. PACK, it was called. I went into there and was prompted for a password. I keyed in BEACH, then a photo of a tan-skinned boy with impossibly dark eyes stared into me, but this time, from the tiny screen of a cellular phone.

Jacob Ephraim Black.

My target had found me before I'd even started to look for him.

_Oh, shit._


	3. now what i want is information

**The "I" Word**  
By Lexa Rawr!

Chapter Three

* * *

"Are you okay?" I barely caught myself before I acted, awkwardly shrugging out of the almost-going-to-kick-your-ass-for-jumping-at-me-so-fast pose and into the oops-I'm-sorry-I'm-clumsy stance.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm perfectly fine. I suck at multitasking. One thing at a time, right?" I pocketed the phone again. "I didn't even have any messages."

He grinned, "I told you it didn't beep."

"I'll have to trust your word a bit better, ehe."

"Ah, I think I see him."

"Hm?"

"My friend," he said, pointing somewhere up ahead. I wouldn't know who to look for; there were so many people here. "SETH!"

I winced at the sudden volume, startled.

"Oop, sorry!"

"It's fine," I smiled, looking back toward where he'd pointed, noticing a similarly tanned man jogging toward us.

"Jake!" He said, grinning and slowing to a walk as he approached. "Sorry I needed a ride-ride, but with all these bags and stuff, it'd be a pain to–"

Jacob cleared his throat loudly. _Hiding something, Jacob Ephraim Black? _"This is... Er... I'm sorry, did I get your name?" I masked my suspicion with a sheepish smile.

"Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Anya Fox."

"I'm Jacob Black," _I know, unfortunately for you,_ "this is Seth Clearwater."

"Clearwater? Oh, it's wonderful to meet you!" I reached my hand out to shake his, noticing he'd set his duffel bag down and had a hand free. He shook mine; his hand was so very warm. _Nervous? _But it wasn't clammy.

"She's going to be staying at your mom's B&B."

"Really? Cool! So you're headed to La – erm, duh! Yeah, you must be." He scratched the back of his neck. I was surprised by the strong resemblance between them, but was that being rude? Just because you're of the same race, you must be closely related? But something about them just struck me as closely related nonetheless. "Um, you two... know each other?" His brow furrowed.

"Just met!" Jacob chirped cheerfully, smiling at me as if we were old friends. It bothered me, but a ditzy, dorky tourist would just be relieved to have someone happy to see her, strangers or not. "I'm giving her a ride to the rez since they charge obscene rates for taxis."

"That they do!" Rock music started playing – a ringtone? – and Seth dug into the pocket of his coat. Pulling out the phone, he flipped it open. "Ah, it's Lee." Holding it in the crook of his neck, he hefted one of his bags over his shoulder. These La Push guys were tall and just plain bulked-up, weren't they? "Hi, Leah! Happy to hear your voice, too, gosh. Yeah, yeah, I'm at SeaTac, Jake's here. Everything okay? Good. Well, I'm going to –"

"We'd better get going. That okay with you?" Jacob touched my arm, not putting much pressure, testing.

I nodded. "Of course." Careful to keep the movement casual and not awkward, I reached up to fix a nonexistent errant strand of hair, effectively ending the physical contact. "I can wait, too, of course."

"You're not hungry or anything? Must've been a long flight."

"I ate on the plane," I lied smoothly.

"Ah, well, I hope you don't find it rude if I grab a sandwich... I, myself, am starved."

"Me, too!" Seth said, catching up to us as he hung up his phone.

"What'd she want?"

"Just makin' sure I'm safe."

"Leah's his sister," Jacob said to me. Ah, he was quite the informant. I just nodded and smiled.

* * *

"It's not a Porsche," Jacob says apologetically as we approach an old Volkswagen in the parking lot.

"So?" I ask after taking a bite of the sandwich he'd bought me, since I'd been unable to hide the longing look at the sandwiches he'd ordered for himself and Seth. They'd both already chowed through them just on the walk to the car; I was barely a quarter of the way through.

"Jake likes to impress people," Seth teased, opening the front passenger door.

"Seth."

"Jake?"

"She's going to be helping fund your mother's business!"

"What?"

"Seth will sit in the back."

"Oh, no, it's okay."

"Nah, I can go into the abyss!" Seth said, not seeming too bothered. He smiled at Jacob in a weird way.

"You sure?" I asked the dark-haired man, who had such a youthful face. He certainly looked "boyish" in every sense of the word, but boys did not have what appeared to be biceps of steel.

"Sure, sure." He hopped into the back, leaving the passenger door open for me up front. Uneasily, I slid in, holding my backpack on my lap. It felt like I was in school, with my bag of school supplies. But instead of notebooks and pencils, I had camera equipment, hiking gear, oh, and a M40 sniper rifle, a pair of Sig Sauers, fake passports and documents... you know, the usual.

"Here, I can put that in –"

I put my hand between his and my pack, cutting him off. "It's fine."

"Okay." He then focused on getting the Volkswagen started, which took a few tries. "She's a little stubborn..." He mumbled, just before it finally fired up.

"We always breathe a sigh of relief when the Rabbit gets going." Seth offered, grinning.

"Pretty much," Jacob laughed.

After a few minutes of silence: "So, where are you from, Anya?" _Anya. Just another one on the long list of names I've gone by. Anika, Dominika, Anastasia, Elise, Mila, Danika... It never ends._

"Minnesota," I said, not missing a beat. "St. Paul, actually."

"Cool."

Not much else is said for a while.

"So, you're traveling, right?" Jacob asks, breaking the silence.

"Right." I nod, looking from the blur of trees out the window to Jacob, who isn't even looking at the road, his eyes locked on me. I open my mouth to say something, probably to the effect of him probably needing to pay attention to –

"JAKE!" Seth hollered, launching himself over the top of the seat and grabbing the wheel. I looked out the windshield, after pinning myself as close to the door as possible to accommodate Seth's torso as he and Jacob both try steering the wheel in opposite directions, to see what appeared to be some kind of mutant dog in the middle of the street. It was enormous! It was colored like a wolf – was it a wolf? – with silvery-gray fur and a black mask-like marking over its face. Passively, it watched us approaching, not at all concerned that it was getting ready to become roadkill. Or, given the fact the beast looked about as big as this _car_, turn _us_ into roadkill.

Jacob rolled down his window as he slammed on the brakes. "COLLIN! GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY YOU STUPID –"

"Collin?" Who was Collin? The dog?

The bear-sized dog (wolf?) didn't even look frightened, jumping out of the way at the last possible second as the Rabbit went careening by. Jacob (or Seth, they both seemed to think they were the ones driving right now) barely avoided us ending up in a ditch. I craned my neck to watch it as we went tearing by, watching as it disappeared into the treeline. It ran so fast... it might as well have never been there at all.

"Holy. Freaking. Shit." Seth breathed, retreating back to the back seat... which was easier said than done. He nearly elbowed me in the face in the process, which he apologized profusely for. "Eep, sorry, Anya!"

"Sorry for what?"

"Nothing," I said, blinking at how Jacob had looked ready to punch Seth in the face. I glanced down at my lap, noticing I was holding onto the door handle so tightly that my knuckles were white as snow. Somewhat reluctantly, I let go, flexing my hand to restore circulation to it. Jacob's breathing was audibly ragged.

"The local wildlife... not much street smarts." Seth halfheartedly joked, so I halfheartedly smiled. Their eyes kept darting around, neither of them would look me in the eye. _Just the adrenaline, _I thought, _they are just worked up because they almost wrecked. _I_ am just worked up because we almost wrecked. Though if I'd have been at the wheel, it'd have been much smoother. _Oh well.

"Someone lose a dog?" Jacob barked a laugh. "Did you... did you call it Collin?" He... blushed?

"Er... It-It's a neighbor's dog."

"Yeah." Seth said. "Collin belongs to this guy named Sam."

"He doesn't keep him on a very strong leash."

"Nope. The thing gets free run of the rez, basically."

"Emily doesn't like muddy pawprints on her floor." There was something decidedly amused in Seth's voice, beneath the shakiness. Like they had an inside joke of some kind.

"Emily?"

"Sam's wife," Jacob supplied, nodding quickly. He seemed more willing to watch what was in front of him now, at least. "Yeah. Collin is Sam's dog."

"Awfully big for a dog."

"Husky."

"Huskies don't usually get that big..." I played with the ends of my black hair. "I had a neighbor who had huskies, once. They're actually pretty small. Is it, er, he a mix?"

"Maybe."

"Probably."

"Okay." That was the end of that, whatever it was. Discreetly, I studied Jacob. His arms were shaking. _Nerves? _I had a bad feeling about all of this.

* * *

_Rap, tap, rap. _I knocked on the screen door, taking a step back. I never got too close to a door when I knew it would be opened. The doorway was more of a nook than anything else, which would allow me to easily assume a defensive position around the corner and retaliate if – _this place has a population of just under 400, Anneliese. _That didn't necessarily make it safe, but the likelihood of a gunfight occurring within the next ten seconds were slim to none.

"Come on in! This is an office, not a house!"

"Hi, Leah!"

"Jake? What are you doing here?"

"I come bearing a paying customer!" He grinned, opening the door and walking in. I followed a stride or two behind, depending on if you were measuring in his long Jacob-stride or my shorter, more careful, Anneliese-stride.

"Hi. I believe I have reservations?"

"You are...?" She had dark brown hair and tanned skin, which was, more or less, to be expected. Still. So many similarities...

"Anya Fox." Reflexively, I reached my hand out. She didn't shake it. _Sheesh._

"Yup. One week?" I nodded. "So you two are friends?" Skepticism was heavy in her voice. Her gaze was sharp. I had little doubt she was sizing me up. Like Seth and Jacob, she was taller than me, well toned and probably in good physical shape from the looks of her arms. Not burly or masculine, but fit. I was fairly certain that I had training and weaponry on my side (but it was always impossible to tell for sure when it came to others), so I _thought_ I might be able to take her on, if necessary. Not that I was considering it. I had only one target.

"Ah, kind of." Jacob said, shrugging. Leah started writing something down, probably logging that I was here. "I met her at the airport. Found out she was heading to La Push, the rest is history." I gave him a sideways glance, though looked back to Leah when her head shot up.

"You didn't." She said, her eyes wide and her brows lowering. In the corner of my eye, Jacob's smile only widened. _What is going on here? _"Wow."

I glanced up at the wooden ceiling, trying not to be rude. _Ditzy dorky, ditzy dorky... _Leah's gaze slid from Jacob to me.

"I'll show you your room. This way." I adjusted how I was holding my backpack, stepping back as Jacob went to grab it.

"It's fine. I can carry it."

"But –"

"Not all girls are weak, Black." Leah said, her gaze flicking between us. _What was that supposed to mean? _I outwardly brushed it off, though I couldn't shake the feeling in my gut. "C'mon."

* * *

"You guys really did fix this place up nice," Jacob said, peeking in from the hallway.

"This isn't your room, Jacob."

"She doesn't mind." Both of them looked at me questioningly. Did I mind? Would a socially awkward photographer-traveler-person mind? Maybe. Maybe not. I just shrugged.

"Breakfast's at eight A.M."

"Who cooks it?" Jacob asked, raising a brow at Leah. She gave him a funny look.

"Not me. Or Mom. We pay for breakfast over at any of the local places. Nothing too fancy," she glanced over at me.

"Don't need fancy." I smiled, setting the backpack down on the bed.

"Need anything?" Leah asked. I noticed Jacob's eyes were just as inquiring as hers. These La Push people sure were hospitable.

I shook my head. "Nope. Um... it was a long flight. I think I might, er, retire early."

"In other words, she's shooing you, Jake." Leah said, looking more amused if nothing else. She was hard to read. He looked at me, almost expectantly. Like... he wanted me to ask him to stay. I didn't say anything. "See? Quit harassing the poor girl, else she won't ever want to visit Washington again." With that, she shoved him out further into the hall. "Your dad wants you, anyway. Mom said to tell you. No, Jacob. You need to go. Have some stamina, kid."

"Bye, Anya!" He said, peeking around the corner of the doorway before turning around and walking away.

"Holler if you need anything, least until six, which is when I'll be leaving. I've got a cell, number's on the post-its on the table by the dresser." Leah said, reappearing. "Enjoy your stay at Clearwater B&B." She disappeared, too.

I closed the door, locking it with a reassuring _click. _Locked doors would always be one of my favorite things in the world.

I dumped the contents of the backpack on the bed. Canon EOS 7D camera, a trio of lenses, a baggie of memory cards, to go with the photographer persona. The documents were next: a passport, driver's license, and a St. Paul Central Library card. Beneath all of that was another bag, with the "good stuff." M40, check, pair of scopes for said M40, check, pair of Sig Sauer P220s, check, three blades of ranging sizes, check, a workable supply of ammunition, check. A travel-sized container of bleach, some rubber gloves, a container of fuel and a lighter completed that bunch. Cosmetics were next, meant both for beautifying and disguising, along with some hair dye.

_The tools of the trade._

Finding my target had been ridiculously easy.

Getting close to him would probably be easier still.

It was a clearcut mission as far as I could tell. Maybe ask him if he'd like to go hiking, ask if he knows one that's not quite on the map (surely a local would, especially one with muscles like that), get him far away from civilization and make it look like an accident. There was a behemoth of a dog running loose, was there not? I could play on that, too.

It was a small town, that would work against me. Some stranger comes in, hangs around him, guy goes missing... it'd be suspicious.

Minor obstacle, easily dealt with.

No, there weren't many things working against me. He was just some guy in some town who... angered the wrong people. It wasn't my place to wonder _why._ That wasn't my job. My job was to _do_, not to wonder.

I had a week.

Plenty of time.

As I packed everything back into the pack, I found myself thinking of that too-happy smile.

Something was _not_ right here. Niall wouldn't be happy (although... he didn't need to know, not yet), but I had to find out what was going on here.

People didn't order hits on nice guys from a small Indian reservation for nothing. Expensive hits, for that matter, since our infamously legendary services didn't come cheap. The fifty grand deposit to my bank account (clients pay half upfront, the rest when the deed is done) was testament to that. And I only got a fifty-percent cut.

Wasn't knowing things our business? To some extent? If I was right, and something _was_ going down here... it'd only benefit us to know. I could still do the hit (nice smile or not) but I could come back with something just as good as money: information.

I tucked the Sig under my pillow and drifted off with that word in my mind.

_Information._


	4. but i find myself playing it safe

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Chapter Four.

* * *

Old habits were tough to kill. I was up at five-thirty sharp. After shoving the Sig back into the pack, I grabbed a fresh set of clothes (which always seemed to be last on the list of priority items to travel with, I'd noticed) and realized I had no idea if there was a restroom. Well, there _must_ have been one, but I wasn't sure where it was.

I regarded the boot-cut jeans and worn T-shirt in my hands before I looked at myself in the mirror on the dresser. Shrugging, I changed clothes (I slept fully-dressed because pajamas translated to security, to comfort, and to be totally at ease when asleep was stupid).

Surely, in this backpack full of magical wonders and useful things there was a comb of some kind. _Surely... _Unfortunately for my dark brown hair, which was curled in every which way in absolute disarray, I apparently had forgotten to check for that. "Dammit!" I did, however, have a water bottle. Wetting my fingers, I began tackling all of the tangles... which was much easier said than done, regardless of if it sounds easy at all. I'd taken more bullets than I could count, had the scars to prove it, kicked the asses of guys two to three-plus times my weight, suffered from obscenely severe migraines as a teen and a tiny little snarl by my scalp was enough to make my eyes water. Tell me, Fate, how that can possibly make sense!

"I fucking dare you," I grumbled to a personified destiny as I was finally – _finally_ – ripping a last little knot out.

After shrugging on a hoodie and touching up a tiny bit on makeup (I could finish later, I figured), I was out the door and back into the hallway at six-fifteen, backpack secured once again.

Now, I could either try opening every door and pray some poor guest isn't in there and forgot to lock their door (and have to deal with an inevitably awkward and unwanted situation thereafter), or... Or...

_What? _I highly doubted any stores were open, it'd be maybe two or three hours yet before I could use a public restroom to fully get ready. It'd be two or three hours yet before I'd be seeing anyone at all. _You're gonna be a photographer, after all. Get some morning shots. Scout the terrain a bit. _In the lobby, I'd imagine that there would be some guides on hiking, right?

After checking again that no doors were clearly labeled "Bathroom," not seeing any, I glided over to the rack of brochures. _"VISIT LA PUSH!" "VISIT PORT ANGELES!" "VISIT SEATTLE!"_ "Aha...!" _"HIKING IN LA PUSH." _"There we go..."

There was a short one, labeled for "Beginners." I wasn't playing the part of a beginner, but I was looking for something quick anyway.

_Might as well work up a good appetite for breakfast, at any rate._

* * *

It was gorgeous here. The trail was well-marked (you'd have to be blind and have absolutely no sensation in your body to possible deviate off course, that much I was sure of) but still wound its way through the wilderness, with plenty of photo opportunities along the way. Had I not have taken Digital Photography in high school, I would have been hopelessly lost with the complex DSLR camera. One of the lenses was simply to die for, too.

"Anya! Hey!"

I spun around, only to see Jacob... shirtless? On this foggy morning? _You have got to be the most persistent target I've ever had, man. Totally clueless, but that's a good thing... for me, anyway. Certainly not you. _"Oh. Hi." Confusion was an easy enough expression, all you had to do was pull your brows a little close, squint your eye a tiny bit, tilt your head, chew on the inside of your –

"You've got to think I'm stalking you! Which I'm not doing, by the way, haha." He wrung his hands a bit, which drew my gaze down his muscled abdomen and – no, I was not thinking about him that way. Not... really. _Err... well... maybe... just a little. _

"Ah, it's... a coincidence, yeah. Aren't you... cold?" I rubbed my hands on my shoulders for emphasis, though the hoodie I was wearing was just fine. "You're just wearing... shorts."

"Oh. Oh. Yeah. Uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze jerking to the ground. "I'm used to the weather."

I'd gotten used to Alaskan winters, but that didn't mean I ran around in cut-offs all year long.

"You take pictures?" He was wearing... shorts. Just shorts. On what could only be described as a brisk, could-rain-any-second morning.

"Shorts," it was all I could think, all I could say at that moment. "You're just wearing shorts." He closed his eyes, looking like he could laugh or run and hide... it was hard to tell. He stretched his arms a bit nervously.

"That's... why I go running so early. Less people to..."

"Gawk?" I suggested. If he was running... wouldn't he look like he'd been? _Beginner's-level hiking trail. If he runs regularly this could, literally, be no sweat... right? _"Sorry. It's just... surprising."

"Naw, don't apologize. I'm the one who interrupted you."

"It's fine." Oh, this was _too_ perfect. I'd only been here a little bit over twelve hours and already I had him right where I probably needed him: in a secluded area, alone, with no one who could hear anything for quite a ways. Rushing it would only end badly, though, I told myself. Was I being smart or was I looking for excuses?

"That's my favorite flavor of gum," he said suddenly, like he had blurted it.

"What?"

"The one you're chewing... Five, right?"

The flavor had died ages ago. I'd forgot I even had it. "...Yeah."

He nodded. "Cool."

"How'd you know?" He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He must have realized, belatedly, that it's not common for someone to comment on another's choice of chewing gum... when they're standing five or so feet away.

"Uh..." I tilted my head a bit more, suspicion fighting valiantly to sneak into my expression but I kept it at bay. "Good guess? You look like... you chew Five gum."

"There's a type? Of gum-chewers?"

He grinned, but it looked more forced than anything else. "There is now?"

"Uh-huh..."

"That's a fancy camera," he tried again, but he did look genuinely interested. _Would a ditzy, dorky girl push further? Or is that a little too far on the assassin end of the spectrum?_

"Haha, yeah. I cashed out my savings, decided to splurge. It was worth it, though."

"Nice. Getting good pictures? It's a bit cloudy..."

"Actually, I am. Too much sun can make things look faded, the clouds kinda... shield it, a bit. Diffuse it." He was nodding. I wondered if he was impatient, wondering why I was babbling on. His face didn't fit that presumption, though, he was as obvious as any written book.

"Can I see?" Did he have ADHD? He flipped from one thing to the next like _that_.

"Hm?"

"Pictures. Your pictures?"

"Uh... sure. They're just on the camera, small screen." In what couldn't have been more than two strides he was next to me. Not without some apprehension (was this guy planning on jacking my camera?), I handed it to him. "Just press that," I pointed to it, careful to avoid touching him directly, "button to zoom in. And spin this," quick as a wink, I tapped the raised circle beside the screen, "wheel to scroll through images." Politely, as not to crowd him, I took a step away. To my surprise, he took a step toward me.

I studied his face. He seemed focused on the tiny camera screen, a screen that seemed even smaller due to the size of his hands; he was so tall. Had it been a subconscious action? Doubtful. He was probably just playing coy for some ridiculous reason. Was the openness of his expression a ruse? _Niall has kind eyes, but he's got a thousand horror stories under his belt. He wields a blade like an extension of himself, he's carved intricate designs into many an enemy... a kind face can always be a mask._

"That one's awesome," he said, of the tenth frame. "I liked the one before it, too. All the ones so far, really."

"Thanks..." I wouldn't lie, I was genuinely flattered. "Mostly the camera." I added. "It's pretty badass." He grinned at me, the lightness and honesty of that broad smile stole my breath in that instant. I kicked a pebble, only having to remember why I was here to chase that strange, unwanted (or, at least, I told myself it was unwanted) feeling away. _You're here to work, not play, Anneliese._

"It is," he agreed, turning it in his hands a bit. "But anyone can take a picture, not necessarily good ones. It still says something if you take good ones."

"Thank you." He kept flicking through the pictures, taking at least several seconds to look at each and every one. I'd been a bit trigger-happy with the camera; at this rate it'd be bordering on forever if he went through each and every one. "You don't have to look through them all. I don't want to keep you..."

"I've got all the time in the world." Did he, now? Something about the way he said it made me do a double take.

"Oh... 'kay..."

"Oh, whoops, sorry. _I'm_ the one keeping you." I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued: "Leah said you have breakfast at eight, right? That's coming up pretty quick."

"Really?" I made a helpless gesture with my hands, palms-up and arms out a bit. "I don't have a watch or anything and my phone totally died last night. Dang. I'd better turn back then."

"I'm sure you have enough time to get there in time." He assured me, handing me back the camera. I was about to flip the switch to OFF, but I hesitated. Jacob, who had begun walking forward stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. It took a bit of effort to work what wanted to be a smirk into a guilty kind of grin as I lifted the viewfinder to my eye and snapped a shot of him without warning. "Am I your new model?"

"Maybe," I jogged forward a few steps to catch up with him. Snapping the lens cap back on, I pulled the neck strap that was attached to the camera over my head.

"You owe me a picture."

"Say what?"

"If you can snap a pic of me then I get to snap one of you." I smiled, but I said nothing. No way would he get to photograph me. I was always aware of surveillance cameras, even, to make sure I never looked directly into them if I had the choice. "Deal?"

"Maybe."

"Aw, come on!"

* * *

"So _you're_ the reason that she's late?" Leah asked Jacob, rising from one of the tables by the window.

"Hey, it was a coincidence."

"Sure."

"I apologize for not being prompt. I don't have a watch and I thought I'd be able to squeeze in a quick, short hike." I said

"What time did you wake up?"

"Ah... maybe around six? I'm an early riser." I sat at the table and Jacob was quick to follow. "Military parents," I added, by way of explanation.

"What, you think I'm going to pay for your breakfast as well?"

"I.O.U.?" She raised her brow. "I'll pay you back."

"Geeze, boy, you need a shirt!" A waitress chastised Jacob, _thwack_ing his shoulder with one of the menus. "You're just as bad as Paul and all the rest of them." She looked at Leah solemnly. "Thank you for having the decency that your friends lack."

"Oh, they're no friends of mine, Mrs. Segur*." Leah said, the corner of her lip turning up. "No need to give me a menu. I'd love today's soup."

Jacob, his face a bit red from how he'd been greeted, looked pleadingly at Leah. She sighed; it was the sound of giving in. "French toast! Please!" The woman, "Mrs. Segur," turned to me.

"Um..."

"Here's the menu..."

"I'll have what he's having, if that's okay?"

"Of course." Mrs. Segur looked at Jacob. "She a friend of yours?" She said this not unkindly.

"Yup." _So trusting._ It made me more uneasy than relieved, the latter of which should have been what I felt. Niall would admonish me for not being happy that this was going to be such an easy job, but the less contact while on a mission, the better.

Leah spoke: "So... you two just _happened_ to run into each other while you were –" she broke off suddenly, twisting to look out the window. Jacob had tensed just as quickly as she had, looking right where she was. I looked, but I saw nothing that would strike me as attention-grabbing. "Erm... I'll go. I mean, I have to go. Sorry, Anya, I'll... er... I'll leave some cash." She tossed a few bills toward Jacob. "You owe me." She maintained his eye contact for a moment longer, then walked away. "Sorry, Mrs. Segur! Cancel that order of soup if you can! I, uh, B&B stuff to attend to!" She called toward where the kitchen was, the door behind the counter where the registers were.

When she walked out the door, I looked at Jacob questioningly. He laughed a forced laugh, then said: "B&Bs... very... time consuming."

I didn't really believe him, but he was too good at jumping into conversation and not really giving me the chance to question him further. _Now_, I was fairly certain he was, in fact, aware of how irresistible his big, megawatt smile was.

In fact, I'd forgotten we were waiting for food until Mrs. Segur had returned with a plate of french toast balanced on each hand.

* * *

A/N: Mwahaha, I have so much planned! :3 YOU CAN HAS NO IDEA, mmk? Feel free to guess, of course. My lips, er, typing fingers, will remain sealed, though. You all will found out through reading, if you'd be willing to stick with me, of course. *Begs on hands and knees* Puh-leeze! Reviews make my week and fuel my muse (thank you so much, jacobluver113 (!) and LucyPenny for reviewing!) so if you want me to continue it'd be in your best interest to leave a review, positive or negative~

* = By the way, Mrs. Segur is going to be Paul's mother in this story. -nodnod- I've decided he's gonna be Paul Segur... not a wonderful surname but it was the best I could come up with. This is a minor detail, but in case anyone's wondering.


	5. what the

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Chapter Five

* * *

"So," he says, as I take a last bite of the french toast. He'd finished his plate long ago, having wolfed it all down. "I know a great place to hike, and it's way better than the easy-peasy one you were on this morning." He paused, obviously thinking. "Unless you'd prefer easier ones, I meant no offense." He really did look apologetic.

"Nah, I was just hoping it'd be quick enough to squeeze in before breakfast," I nod. "I'm game if it's not a bother. I'd hate to get in the way of your usual plans."

He shook his head emphatically, "No! It's fine. This beats my usual days by a long shot." He assured me, grinning like a kid. He was kind of kid-like, in a way, to me. But _kids_ did not have muscle like he did. I blinked, willing that unwanted thought away.

"How could I say no?" Really, how could I?

He rose, moving the cash Leah had left closer to the center of the table. I hoist the backpack over my shoulders again. "What're you carrying in there?" I fought to keep my smile from faltering at the thought. "A house in a box?"

"Ha, ha, very funny. I... don't want to forget anything important." I thought of my lack of a comb. _Yeah, real good at that, aren't ya, Anneliese? Anya, _I reminded myself, _your name is Anya here. _

He just shrugged, regarding me for a moment.

"What? There are backpacks much, much bigger than this one. _Much."_

"And they don't have to hold as much stuff as what I bet is in that one," he pointed out. "If _you_ can carry it, I wonder... did you just put marshmallows in there?"

"Marshmallows? What do you mean, if _I_ can carry it?" Sounded a little close to insulting! I worked hard to maintain a lean physique, but I wasn't a twig or a complete wimp. Was that really that hidden?

"Packaging peanuts? Something light, to make it _look_ like you're being strong but –" I leaned a little bit against the chair and crossed my arms as I interrupted him.

"Are you accusing me of deception?" I asked, aiming for a scandalized tone. He half-grinned, but was instantly apologetic.

"Not at all, Anya!" He nodded toward the door. "C'mon, it'd be nice to get out there while there's still daylight." He winked. He... winked, seriously. "Plus, you probably want to get pictures, right? On a cloudy day, no less."

"It'd have to be pitch black on a new moon to totally wipe out photographic opportunities outdoors, Jacob." I said, though I wasn't even 100-percent sure if that was true or not. Said with enough confidence, at least, he seemed to buy it.

"Yeah, yeah. I can drive us as far as we can go, if you want." Out the door we went.

"If that'd be easier for you." I stopped, glancing down the street and back at him. His rabbit was parked nearby.

"I'm neutral."

"You're the one being nice, your choice."

"But I'm doing it for you." The strange, unwarranted conviction in his eyes made me freeze up for a split-second. Laughing awkwardly (and not as an act, I'm ashamed to point out), I shoved at my hair a bit and swallowed.

"Really, your choice."

"Drive there it is."

"Driving to hike makes so much sense." I teased, but made sure my smile was genuine enough to where he knew it wasn't aimed to cut.

"Not like there's much here in town. 'Cept for gift stores, if you wanna stop there on the way?"

"I'm here for a week." _You won't live through it. _"Plenty of time for souvenir-gathering."

"Guess so."

* * *

"You hike a lot?" There's a hint of admiration to his voice, as he watches me jump up onto a rock to try and get a better picture. Perspective was everything in a shot.

"You can say that," I grinned. "Least in places that offer hiking."

"We definitely do."

"I know. I'm taking advantage of it."

Again, I was presented with a too-perfect opportunity. In a remote area after much walking, alone... no one was around. Huge, bear-sized prints were in the ground (I didn't look directly at them, trying to be subtle and seem oblivious)... but the thought of faking _that_ and what that would entail with... it made me sick.

Which was stupid. Absolutely stupid. What, suddenly I was going to take some moral high ground when I'd never had a problem before? He was just another handsome face, naïve and too trusting. If I fai–no. I would never fail. Never.

But I had a week. Six days, now. The one who waited was the one who won.

"I hiked a lot as a kid," I said conversationally.

"With your family?"

"Nah. Unless you count the family dog as family, which... well... I guess not with _human_ family." I amended as he fell in step with me again. Exhaling, I surveyed our surroundings. Forests were such fun... in spite of the mosquitoes, huge annoyances that they were.

"Poor dog," he teased.

As I was about to reply, a chorus of... howls(?) erupted. They sounded awfully close by. "You guys have wolves here?"

"They're... making a comeback." The increased in volume, which made the hairs on the back of my neck (not that there are all that many, mind you, I'm not Miss Hairy) stand straight up. "Erm... Maybe I should go check it out? Just to make sure it's safe."

"I can go with–"

"_No. _Wait here, Anya." He looked at me, worry (and anxiety...?) evident in his dark eyes. He had a breathtaking face, but he was delusional about my apparent fragility. But he couldn't know that, not yet. My stomach somersaulted at the thought. "I'll be _right_ back."

"Wouldn't it be smarter to, uh, turn back? Instead of sneaking around to see wild animals? If it's safe enough for _you_ to be able to –"

"Wait for me," he said, before pausing. "Unless I tell you to run."

"What?"

"Just... wait here." He looked at me expectantly, like I was supposed to vow I would stand here and not move even if an asteroid was destined to explode here. Well, maybe not quite that dramatic, but... I didn't say anything. He sighed, before walking into the woods, disappearing in the shadows.

I was torn between annoyance and worry. Annoyance, because I was playing the part of a helpless, useless damsel and he was being some kind of stupid knight in shining... muscle... The worry part is, hopefully, self-explanatory.

I waited for thirty seconds, forty-five, one minute... might as well have been an hour. "Fuck it," I grumbled to myself, just before I went after the way he had gone.

Stealth was something I could say, with some confidence, that I was proficient at. It was, however, easier in urban settings than in this wilderness. No twigs to snap, rocks to slip on, just pavement and a crowd of people to blend into. I had no idea where he'd gone, only that the howls had stopped and there was a deceptive silence. Deceptive, because the forest was so alive that it couldn't _really_ be this quiet. We humans just weren't tuned in to it, but generally that suited me just fine.

Except when I was looking for someone.

I noted a stump with a swirly bush that was draped over the top of it, not planning on getting lost in this forest.

Did he go left or right, or keep going forward? Maybe he went left... Cautiously and quietly, I walked on, figuring he couldn't have gotten _that_ far and he wasn't even wearing a _shirt_. Tanned skin would show up against this muted greenery easily enough, right? But there wasn't a single trace of Jacob here.

It was all so stupid. He'd gone off to look at friggen' wolves, who probably ripped his head off or something stereotypical like that. Sure, they were beautiful and intriguing in paintings and some photos, but they were wild creatures, brutal and they didn't play by our rules. Easy prey was easy prey and wolves were not averse to attacking humans – contrary to what some folks would say –

"I told you to wait!" I spun around too fast, banging my ankle against a stick or a stalk or something. It hurt, but I'd always been trained to hide pain, to get through it and pretend it didn't happen. _"When you're dead, rooks, you can wallow in pain and misery. Until then, suck it up." _Ah, I really did miss the grizzled old guy who had been tasked with training the Recruits of my time. My pleasant memory was interrupted by how Jacob looked. He was... different somehow. His hair, crazy as it may sound but I swore, I _swore_ it was different. More tousled. He had obviously cut his hair short recently enough, but it was starting to grow longer, and the longer bits reminded me of a dog I'd seen at an intersection, with its head out the window. It was one of those long-haired, fancy-pants dogs, but its eyes were wild, its hair more so.

Did I really just compare this handsome man to a dog sticking their head out a car window? "You... didn't say how long I had to wait?" I glanced at his shorts, frowning. "Are those... inside-out?"

"What?" He looked down. Oh, God, we were both looking at his crotch. Fabulous. "Err... I was in a rush this morning."

"I don't, I don't think they were like that before." He glanced at me and I realized how odd that must have sounded. I shrugged it off. "Maybe they were. I don't know." He nodded and shrugged at the same time.

"I was in a rush," he repeated. Jacob took a deep breath, like he had just been working out or something. _Adrenaline, _I told myself, _if he glimpsed wild animals it was probably exciting. He just didn't want to include me in it, apparently. _I took a step back.

"Did you see them?"

"Hm?"

"The wolves. They were wolves, right? I don't think I've ever heard dogs howl like that."

"Er, yeah, I'm pretty sure they were wolves." He swallowed a little loudly. "Naw, I didn't see 'em, they probably heard me coming."

I just nodded, feeling more uneasy than anything else. _Screw being sneaky and passing it off as an accident. Something's up here. Do it now, Anya, while you have him close and oblivious. Get the job done and get out of here, it'd be easy enough. Say you're going to get a bottle of water, whip out the handgun and it'd be over. Nice and clean, smooth and fast. He won't even know, maybe not ever. Report it in and get the next mission. Why drag this out? _Suddenly, I noticed that his hands were shaking. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Hey, maybe we should head back? It's been a few hours. If we start now you'll probably be able to catch most of the gift shops before they close? Why delay it?" Another opportunity, starting to slip out of my grip.

"Um, sure. I wouldn't want to keep you."

"Oh, no, it's not that, really, this had been... great. I don't want to steal your trip, though."

"You're not stealing my trip," I smiled. _This one was for you, but you don't know that. You will. _As futile as it might have been, I hoped he wouldn't ever know. But that was impossible. I wouldn't wimp out on this, I couldn't. _Six days... _I still had six days.

"Now, don't worry, I know how to get back to where we were." He grinned. I didn't tell him that I, too, knew how to get back.

* * *

He dropped me off by the B&B.

"I'll see you later," he promises, looking downright _sad. _As if I was leaving him forever. _Why would that matter, anyway?_

"Sure." I said, forcing a smile. I pulled the backpack on again and waved at him as he drove away.

I guess I was back to the make-it-look-like-an-accident-and-not-ever-implicate-yourself-in-any-way plan, since I reminded myself it'd be a little odd if I spent _all_ my time with some local I didn't know. Well, maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't. It wasn't the way to win anyone over... if there was anyone to win over. City girls looking for a brief fling, a pop and drop, couldn't be considered to be a good thing in a small place like this.

I wasn't sure what time it was, but it felt like evening, or late afternoon at the earliest. Either a late lunch or an early dinner didn't sound bad at all. The restaurant Leah had taken me to wasn't far at all from here, of course. Nothing was all that far away from anything here.

"Mrs. Segur" was still there. She recognized me.

"Hello again!"

"Hi." I smiled, nodding my head politely. "Hope you don't have anything against repeat customers?" She looked at me like I had grown a third arm.

"Oh, please, we _love_ repeat customers. You alone or...?"

"Just me."

"'Kay, feel free to pick a table." I chose a two-seater, not wanting to take up much more space than what was necessary. "I would recommend the salmon filet sandwich, if you're interested."

Oh, salmon. How I love you. "I would love that, please."

"Alrighty. Shouldn't be much of a wait. As you can see... you're the only one here." Sure enough, I was.

After she'd gone, I wasn't quite sure what to do.

I just stared out the window, wondering why on Earth I was even (remotely) questioning my past choices. I'd always thought of the Organization as the best thing that had ever happened to me. It was a guaranteed job, guaranteed protection, education, _everything. _So long as I do what I'm told, that is – and that was something that had never been a problem until now.

* * *

After I finished eating and had paid, I looked at Mrs. Segur. "Um, would you recommend going to... First Beach, was it?"

"Would I ever? Absolutely. It's gorgeous, I'd recommend checking it out of you have time." She glanced at the waning light outside. "You'll probably be able to catch the sunset," she nodded toward the camera. "Oh, and by the way, do you have permission?"

"Permission?"

"For photos. This is a Native Reservation."

"Oh, right, right. Yup, I made arrangements."

"Just making sure. Have a good night."

"You, too."

* * *

She'd been right, that waitress. I distanced myself from the groups of teenagers, who were already lobbing logs and chunks of wood in piles as they got ready for bonfires on this Saturday night.

The sunset had been gorgeous, I'd little doubt the photos I'd taken were marvelous. I had a friend once, Josephine, who had been in the Air Force. She'd said something once, about how if she took photos when on duty they were the government's property. I'd found that somewhat silly at the time, though I was reminded of it now. Were these (honestly, probably amateur) shots property of the Organization? Would they request my memory cards? Destroy them, considering them "evidence?"

That would suck. I'd get over it, though. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably. I really had forgotten how much I enjoyed photography, how Digital Photography had been one of my favorites.

I walked near where the water lapped at the rocky sand, not wanting to get my one and only pair of shoes wet but enjoying the sound of it. I could almost pretend I really was just a tourist, a naïve girl who cashed her savings and decided to go traveling. That fantasy was vastly preferable to my reality, where I was suddenly developing... a conscience? Maybe the cousin of a conscience? Close, but not quite? It was so... "Stupid. Just stupid."

Darkness was falling fast, the moon shone from behind the clouds, offering some light with its fullness. Maybe I'd snap a picture of it, if the settings would agree with me and I could keep the ISO low.

There was a large rock, well, a boulder up ahead. It was irresistible. _What a vantage point that would offer! _This photography gig was a welcome distraction, I decided.

Jogging over to it, I was about to jump up and – was that... a man? I froze, overwhelmed by a sense of _wrong. _He was nude, from the looks of it, and his skin seemed to be, crazy as it was, _glowing_ in the dim light. Sickly, I decided. Ribs and muscle were both evident, strange as that was.

"Hey, man, you okay?" I called out, taking a reluctant step toward him, then another. He rolled over, obviously surprised, his – silvery? white? – eyes wide. They were so pale that his pupils were exaggerated and far too noticeable, like someone who has a megawatt light flashed in their face. He didn't look so good, all twisted and lying in such an awkward position.

A shudder ran through his body; I flinched. I should go, I should run, I told myself. Something wasn't right... but if he was sick he must have needed help. "I'm... I'm going to go find someone with a phone." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the distant orange glows of bonfires. Teens always had phones, they were always plugged in.

"NO!" The vehemence of his voice shocked me to the core, but his voice had a strange double-edge to it. It was more of a growl than a word. He... curled his lip at me, reaching a skinny arm toward me. I stepped back, unable to look away (much like how you can't look away from a train wreck, you know you should look away but you _can't_).

"But... why?" _Why does this feel so overwhelmingly _wrong_? Why would you turn down help? Are you on drugs? ODed? Your life might be at stake. _People didn't lie naked on beaches, either. Was he suicidal?

It'd been a long time since I had really, truly been afraid. Fear was something we were told to recognize but work through, to not suppress but actually _destroy _it. A little fear was good, it kept you sharp, but you could not be a slave to it. This feeling, the way my insides felt like ice and my legs were trembling, this was the fear that took you hostage. Another shudder ripped through his body, more violent and swift than the first, and I felt like I could puke just by looking at him. "Why are you like this?" He didn't look like he was in the shape to answer. I couldn't move; I couldn't look away from those sickeningly pale eyes.

Another shudder, and another. He was contorting, twisting, but his eyes never left mine, mine never left his. It was as if... as if... he was holding me there. I was paralyzed, for all intents and purposes. I could feel the slight breeze, smell the salty air of the sea, feel the tips of my hair brush against my shoulder, but I couldn't move. Couldn't... think... about it.

_Crack. _A hiss, inhuman and disturbing, sounded. It took me a full second to realize it was him. His back was bent, too far for it to have been possible. He'd been still a second ago and now he was bent like the tip of a pizza slice, all angles. _Crack. _

A growl, low and rumbling, filled the air, made my heart beat triple-time. His fingers were twisted the wrong way, all of his fingertips bent in opposite directions, suddenly tipped and black and elongating with each second. _No. No, no, no. This isn't real. This doesn't happen. Not ever. It's not happening. It can't be. _He maintained the eye contact; I was effectively imprisoned in his gaze. His lips curved into a kind of smile, one that caused my stomach to lurch in revulsion. His teeth were too sharp, glinting in the moonlight. He growled again, looking _happy _for a second. Then there was an explosion, of what, I wasn't sure, my eyes were too slow to keep up with whatever happened.

Hair. He was covered in hair and bones crunched and – his eyes closed, they had been the same even though his face was unrecognizable at this point, and the spell was broken. _Freedom._

I spun around, unable to move my legs fast enough. I was a decent runner, always had been, had outran countless others, be it in play or for my life. My ankle wobbled; it struck the uneven ground wrong, but I kept running. I had to. The bonfires... a crowd, even a small one, could mean safety. Witnesses were safety. In missions witnesses were unwanted, for they would offer a strange form of protection to a target. I was the target now, I needed to get to them. I needed to just –

Fire bloomed in my shoulder, spreading in massive, sweeping tendrils down my back and up my neck. I opened my mouth to scream, but my throat was burning – no speech could come out. The bonfires were too far away, I was alone with _it_, and I. Couldn't. Breathe.

I felt my own blood, which felt like liquid, metallic flame, bubble up in my mouth, choking me. The world spun.

Blinding light overcame my vision, but a cloak of black began to sweep to the left, like a curtain at a theater.

Dizziness overcame me and I gave in to the darkness.


	6. interlude: anya's pyre

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Interlude: Pyre

* * *

I was drifting in the ocean.

A stormy ocean, in fact. The waves rolled and turned, but instead of blue water there was only red-orange flame, and instead of white, foamy caps, there was actually charcoal smoke, billowing around me and shrouding everything in darkness. Sound had been crushed into one long, deafening roar and had been like so for such an impossibly long time that it was the new silence as far as I was concerned.

I had felt pain before, or at least I thought I had. During a mission in the Balkans, I was unable to round the corner to fully escape the blast of a grenade in time. I had been more surprised than hurt at first, absolutely baffled, convinced I had lost my leg and at a loss as to how that could possibly have occurred. _I never lose, _I had thought, _I always pull through. Always. I figure shit out and escape in tact. _For the first time, I thought I had lost! Before shame could even think to nip at my heels, the surprise wore off and all I felt was this all-consuming agony. Ever since, until "now," (however long of a "now" it had been) anyway, I had thought that to be the worst physical pain I'd ever experience. I might not have lost my leg, but the scars that still paint my right calf an ugly brownish-red remain.

But that... that was nothing. Nothing on this.

I thought of the bonfires I had seen, had tried to flee to. It was as if I'd swallowed one, or all, of them, and they'd started procreating like rabbits until I was bursting at the seams with new, baby bonfires. Every cell in my body, it seemed, now had at least a torch (or a thousand torches) burning within it.

Any screams were drowned out by that ceaseless noise, a noise I could not put my finger on.

Breathing was a distant fantasy. My lungs were scorched, the air constricted into pure torture. And yet... I didn't feel any suffocation if I held my breath for too long. Breathe I still wished to do, though, so I kept trying, and trying, and trying... A shudder rippled through me, heat bloomed around me. I felt as if I should not be able to feel warmth, that I was already so impossibly on fire that there was no way _anything_ could come close to topping it, but oh, how wrong I had been. Pressure, here, there, everywhere... Burning, destructive pressure.

Instincts said to move, to get away from it, drop the too-hot handle and be done with it, but you cannot shed your own skin.

If I could have told where my fingers were, I fear I may have tried to.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for the confusion at the ending of the last chapter and probably in this one, too. Fire is just more exciting, to me, it sounds more agonizing. *evil* So, at the risk of confusing you guys between vamp and weres, I've rolled with it. Spoiler, she's not a vampire, er, won't be a vampire.


	7. i don't understand

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Chapter Six

* * *

There was no resistance, only more heat, so I could not tell if I was moving as much as I was trying to. Gravity had faded. You don't realize how much air weighs until it is gone.

You don't know how hot the sun is until you step into the shade.

I most certainly must have done just that.

Gasping as though I had been drowning (which I may as well have been), I launched myself forward, tumbling down onto something hard and so cold it was sinfully divine. _Marry me, concrete! _I swore I would utter the vows as soon as I could catch my breath again.

"Anya!" Sound. Such annoying sound. It was so dreadfully loud, like the commercials that are set at too high of a default volume, contrasting too much against the scheduled program. "Anya, Anya, Anya!" Warm arms surrounded me, warm arms too reminiscent of the fire. I jerked away and growled in response.

Wait...

...growled?

I opened eyes that I, through all of this, had not realized were closed.

Instantly, I was assaulted by... by... _everything._ Everything was tilting this way, but only for a second, then it tilted that way, but, again, only for a second, it would then tilt this way again, and then, after a second, that way, and –

"Anya!" His eyes were dark and familiar, but I felt as if I'd never seen them quite like this. Eyes were reminiscent of NASA's photos of nebulae, the way they shot out in all kinds of lines and curves, flaring and jutting out from the pure black pupil. I saw every minute detail, even the tiniest of miniature freckles mere hair-lengths from the edge. Was that even possible? A miniscule _freckle_ on one's iris? "Anya?"

This man's impossibly dark eyes were framed by equally-dark (and enviably thick) eyelashes. But between the edge of his eye, between those lashes and those dark irises, were fiery red angles, hallmarks of several things. Mainly a lack of sleep, or inebriation, or, perhaps, some kind of other ailment. As if in a trance, my gaze lowered just a fraction, to the telltale purplish skin beneath that eye. The first of those possibilities it probably was, then. "Have you been sleeping at all?" A voice startled me, made me jump like a spooked deer, and it took a full second for me to register that it had been _my_ voice. It sounded so loud, though! Had I yelled? It didn't _feel_ like –

"What? Have _I_ been – Anya, _you_'ve been... been..." My eyes had been a camera lens, zoomed in too far. After dropping to his mouth in response to his words, it was as if I finally figured how to zoom back _out_. His face... I knew his face... but from where?

"Jacob Ephraim Black," I said in a much quieter voice, as if in a whisper, but it still sounded louder than it should have.

"Jacob Eph– what?" His brows wrinkle and lower and it is as if I see every cell involved with that movement. "Anya..." A hand shot out and went for me, which I saw as a Threat and something that must be Stopped to Protect myself. That is my only conscious thought before I am on top of him, pinning him by the throat. I blinked, reminded of when I had been a little too close to that grenade, more shocked than anything else, surprised when I felt like I should be experiencing another emotion. "An...ya...!" My grip was so tight, I could see it, as if in a special vision of some kind, how easy it would be to end this, end _him_, with little more than a deft flick of my wrist, of all things. Something gnawed at me, something insistent. I was supposed to do something... something _to_ him... but what was it?

Considering the thought, oblivious to his struggling, I tilted my head, regarding his panicked face for a second.

His _panicked_ face...?

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry!" He was the hot pan's handle, the one I needed to drop quicker than a wink. Oh, but I was so much faster than a wink, for I was backed up against something (a wall?) before I could even finish thinking that I should let go. "I... I... what is this? Where am I?"

He rose on unsteady feet and staggered toward me while touching his neck gingerly. I tensed, as though anticipating an attack, a retaliation for what had just occurred. I felt justified, strangely, just as much as I felt bewildered that I would have done such a thing. Hurting him was so wrong, it had to have been, I was sure. But he had come at me, had he not? It was his hand that had snaked for me, could have...

"Anya..." He sounded so broken, apologetic, anxious. A thousand emotions lurked in his eyes, eyes that had been little more than a curiosity all of ten seconds ago. None of those emotions were good, as far as I was concerned. "What happened?" He said that so softly, but it didn't sound quiet enough for the tone. It must have been a windy day, too, for I could hear all kinds of rustling around me.

"What do you mean?" Suspicion chased away the almost-concern that had been rising in my chest, that had been constricting my lungs.

"You're... you're..." It was as if he were choking, suddenly.

"Jacob?"

His muscles tensed, suddenly, in a way that made me try to take a step back, but I had already gone as far back as I could have gotten. Why? Why would I respond that way? What, was he going to –

Jacob was there, too close, too close! I went to struggle, but his arms were as strong as a vise. _I_ had been the strong one scant moments before. How had the tables turned? It made no sense. "You're different somehow." Different? How? "You were... _hurt... _So..." His eyes were so haunted, I stopped trying to resist at the stark emotion in his expression. More than anything, I wanted to get rid of it, get rid of the suffering the sadness in his eyes revealed. How _dare_ any unhappiness even _think _to lurk inside of him? "But now... you're not... but you're not... you're not... you're _not._ You're not _cold._" Cold? All I wanted was to be cold. He said it like it was a bad thing. He radiated heat, something I wanted to avoid. Was this how nature had felt when Man had lit a fire? Had rebelled against the rules Nature had wished? Had Man enslaved something that was not meant for them? No, this was not how Nature had felt, no, this was how that poor stick must have felt, being trapped in the hands of a barbarian who was afraid of the dark. "But you're Different." _Different... Different, different, different._

"Different..." I murmured this, almost quietly enough for it to actually sound like it. _Different. _What is Different? "You're Different," or at least it sure seemed like he was. When had his presence been so... so... powerful? My thoughts kept flickering back to him, like a colt unwilling to step too far away from his mother. "You... _feel_ different." It was impossible to describe. I took a shaky breath. He... smelled different. Stronger. I couldn't tell what he smelled like. It made me think of Earth, of the forest, for whatever reason. Wild, I decided, everything civilization was not.

"What? _I_'m not the one who's been comatose for the last week."

"Comatose?" Who was he talking about? "I never said you were in a coma."

"But _you_ were."

"I was?" Irritation swirled in my veins. Why hadn't anyone informed me of this? If this had happened, surely I would have known?

"Yes!" He let go of my arms. I hadn't noticed how much he had loosened his grip before this, though. I could have shaken them easily. "I found you... You were _hurt._" He said this like I was supposed to understand.

"_What?_" What game was he playing?

"In the woods. By the river. There was this... this... _tree_ by it. It was shaped like an umbrella. You were under it, Anya..." So perplexed by his strange words as I was, I didn't notice his hands when they cupped my face, even though I felt the heat. "You were _hurt._"

_In the woods. By the river. You were _hurt._ In the woods. By the river. In the woods, by the river... _"In the woods... By the river..."

_In the woods. By the river. I was hurt. How could everything be so blurry when I could see it in perfect clarity? A spider crawled up over a gnarled tree's root, scuttled up along one of the wrinkles of the trunk. I watched it, for there was nothing else for me to look at, for it was the only distraction._

_Everything became distorted; blackness encroached into my vision, but only for a second. I blinked and kept it at bay and looked for the spider. It had made its way up further, before ducking into a crevice. I waited to see if it would resurface for one, two, three heart beats._

_When it did no such thing, I tried to lean my head back, tried to look up further. Nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing happened. My gaze darted this way and that, but nothing else would respond. _

_I should have been afraid, I realized. This was _wrong_, I should scream. But... I did no such thing._

_Don't panic, I warned myself, _don't panic. _That would only get me killed faster. Killed by what? What had happened?_

_Rustle, snap, _crunch._ Now, to my horror, fear did creep in, like ice, oozing through my veins. _He_ was coming. _He_ would be – _

"Anya?"

His eyes, well, his eye was breathtaking.

"Jacob."

"Are you okay?" I thought of the freezing fear, the realization of His approach... and leaned into Jacob's warmth. I'd take a warm fire over a blizzard any day of the week, I decided.

"Sure."

"Sure?"

"Sure." No... it had not been a _barbarian_ afraid of the dark. Or, at least, he'd not been alone in his fear. The stick was not necessarily a prisoner, but more of an aide.

"I'm not convinced. You need to rest."

"But... you just said I was out for a week."

"And you looked ready to return to it a few seconds ago! I was afraid to move you out of the back seat... you were... you were in a bad way."

"Back... seat?"

"It was bad."

"I'm sorry–"

"What? Why would you be sorry?"

"It was a –"

"Anya." He leaned in closer again; I certainly didn't mind. "I was... I was worried. To put it lightly."

"You had no reason –"

"You were _hurt._ I... I couldn't... I didn't... I should have protected you." Not comprehending, I shook my head questioningly. "I'm sorry."

"Now you're –"

"Come." He looped his arm around my shoulder, able to spin me on my heel and toward the door from the garage. "It'd be good to actually get you inside."

"My camera..." I remembered it, belatedly, as we moved toward the couch, with me putting up with his apparent need to "guide" me there and let me lean on him. As if in answer, a wave of dizziness washed through me, and I was grateful he had been there after all. "I don't know where it is..."

"Sorry, but it's gonna have to wait. I promise you I'll look for it... when you're better."

"I don't _feel_ like I was hurt." I protested, as I sat down on the couch. Smoothly, he sat right next to me.

"You... you healed." Uneasiness was clear in the frown of his mouth.

"Healed?"

"Yeah. It's like... it's like you weren't... but you _were!_" He said this emphatically, as if I would deny it. "You were _hurt_."

"I-I... I don't understand."

"Honestly, I don't, either. Did... were you... did someone..."

"Do this to me?" Cautiously, he nodded.

_He was approaching, I could smell the blood on his breath even now. My blood. But not just my blood, not anymore. Someone else's, too. "I brought you a gift, Beauty." His voice reminded me of icky slime, markedly more so with the sing-song tune to it now. "Oh, you'll love it! You will now, anyway. You're like me, now, Beauty. You are _mine._" I couldn't move... I couldn't –_

I blinked away the images, able to just about forget them the moment I looked back into Jacob's eyes, frantic as his were.

"Anya! Anya, what happened?"

"I... He..."

"He?"

"He." Couldn't he just _understand? _How could I explain that _He_ was the monster, that _He_ had done something. What had _He_ done? _He_, who was everything to me that Jacob certainly was not: hated, frightening, and _wrong._ "H-he..."

"Who? Me?" I shook my head swiftly, horrified at the mere notion.

"No. _Not_ you. Never you."

"Then who?"

"I don't know. I don't know. I really don't know." _Teeth, teeth, blood, hair, blood, blood, blood. _"I-I... I just... don't go," I pleaded, uncaring of the indignity such begging meant.

"Never," he promised, and I let go of trying to keep the darkness at bay.


	8. dream logic

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Chapter seven

* * *

My dreams were confusing. Of course, that in itself is far from surprising. _Everything_ up to this point has been confusing.

Why the hell did I even hope that my dreams might offer me _any_ semblance of mercy?

I was floating. This, like the confusion, was nothing special. Dreams have such ridiculous logic... if any. Why would I be _floating_? It made no sense!

So, anyway, I was floating. Everything was various shades of green, jutting out in infinite jagged edges fringed with contrasting swirls of a lighter, more yellowy hue. It reminded me of vines, of what you imagine would be growing in a jungle.

I looked down, feeling oddly aware of everything that was happening. Lovely. In this dream, I had no clothes. Least it's just a dream.

Around my legs, no, my ankles, there are more of those green swirls, wrapped around my feet. I felt like I should struggle; like I should freak out and feel trapped somehow. I didn't. It felt... normal.

Surveying my surroundings again, I noticed a reddish tint, no, like shadows, except in the darkest crimson, darkening the edges of the swirls. Entranced, I watched as a line of red ran along the edge of a spiral, slow enough to see but still rapid in its movement. It reached the end, built up into a tiny bubble, before dripping off the edge like a raindrop on a leaf. This was a bad thing, I decided, right before pain ripped through me, like a kick in the gut.

Reflexively, I bent over, clutching at my stomach. I was overcome with the most intense emotion I'd ever felt in my life, a sudden rush of _need_, the need to _protect. _Oddly, I remembered hiking as a kid, on some stupid school field trip, and we found some bear tracks in the middle of the trail...

Suddenly, I was in the forest. A dark, spooky one. Fog cloaked most of my surroundings, haunting the shadows and oozing out into the open in tendrils that curled up like threatening cobras. This time I had clothes on, but they were _weird_, shinier and almost metallic-looking, even though it felt like a leather jacket and jeans. _Hm. _I reached into the jacket, felt near my rib cage. _Aha! _I had a Sig strapped on. Amazing, how that makes you feel a thousand times stronger.

As if I were some agent on a crime show drama, I held the gun out in front of me, pivoting on my heel and scanning the vicinity. Nothing seemed to be here, even though it gave me the heebie-jeebies.

Jogging ahead, I looked down at the rain-softened earth to see some bear tracks. No, these were too large to be bear tracks, unless the Kodiak Grizzlies had been getting some damned good steroids. They weren't shaped right, either, I decided. They looked canine. _Wolves? _Wolves had big feet, yeah, but not that big. This was monstrous in side. _Dream logic, _I reminded myself. _Of course they won't be right._ Against my better judgment (hey, I was in a dream), I began to follow the tracks.

A river appeared out of nowhere, reflecting moonlight I hadn't previously noticed. I looked up and into the night sky, at a too-large full moon. It was glaring, how bright it was. It looked more like the headlight of a huge truck than anything else. I had to shield my eyes against its blinding light as it increased to almost-painful intensity.

I turned around, surprised at how dark the forest still seemed with such an illuminating disc in the sky behind me.

Cautiously, I strode forward, Sig Sauer secured in my grip and held out in front of me.

In my head, I screamed: _Don't go forward! _There was something inside of me that was stronger, though, and it was almost seductive in the promise of safety. _Closer, Beautiful. You'll be safe... _It was like too-sweet honey, when all I wanted was rich chocolate.

Regardless, I kept going forward, turning around the corner to nearly trip over a gnarled tree's root.

Regaining my bearings, I looked ahead again. I screamed.

No sound came out, or if there had been one, I didn't hear it over the sudden, mind-numbing roar that filled the atmosphere. A massive, hulking beast stood before me, growling and snapping its fangs at the air. It was a wolf and doubtlessly the creature that had left those prints. Its pale white fur was matted and tangled and dull, marred with debris from the forest. Mud was caked onto the backs of its legs. Saliva hung in long, dripping strings between its teeth and from its opened mouth. Its nose was wrinkled into a grisly snarl and two silver eyes stared at me with an unrivaled sense of instability lurking in their crazed depths.

Suddenly, another shape materialized out of the mist. A jet-black wolf stood to my right, strangely feminine and elegant, all sleek curves, in comparison to the snarling monster that stood in front of me. Her silver eyes were mirrors of the other beast's, but hers were calm and wise. For a single moment, she looked at me, before running at the brute in front of me. My stomach rolled over and I wanted to do everything in my power to keep her from getting too close to the abomination.

I pulled the trigger of the Sig, but nothing happened.

In horror, I looked at my hands only to watch the pistol melt away and ooze down my fingers. Unable to look away, I watched as the silver liquid suddenly flared crimson and realized that it was now a pool of blood that I held in my hands. I tried to wipe my hands together, to get the blood off, but it only seemed to spread, staining my arms and then pooling at my feet. I looked down at the puddle of blood, only for it to disappear.

I was floating again, but now it was as if my entire body was wrapped up in those swirling vines. That still did not scare me.

Looking around me once again, I noticed there was more red in the distance, more like a curtain now than more lines. I looked to the right, to see something... glowing? Yes, it was glowing a most radiant gold, the color of the sun. Just looking at it warmed me, but not in a painful way. A name gently touched my mind: _Jacob. _At this recognition, the light of his glow increased tenfold. Unlike the moon in that forest, the brilliance did not blind me. I basked in its warmth as opposed to avoiding its burn.

A rope of some kind crept toward me, glittering and shimmering like sunlight reflecting on the ocean's waves. Unthinkingly, I reached for it. My fingertips touched its edge and light exploded under my eyelids.

Not like _that_, silly.

It made me think of that last Matrix movie, when Neo's eyes were injured and he could "see" things. Sans the cool abilities and "Oneness" and human vs. machine war, of course.

I could still see Jacob with my eyes closed; could see him better, actually. Somehow, we were connected. I tested the bond and it held strong. I could see something a little ways away, another glow, similar to Jacob's but not quite as strong. It rippled and moved, like a flag whipping in the wind. Jacob was tied to it like he was to me, but not quite in the same way. That "rope" was thicker, perhaps stronger, but not as bright.

Something akin to sadness washed over me, a sense of isolation. It reminded me of a child reaching for a toy, though, so I did not try and extend myself to that glow like I had to Jacob's. It wasn't my place, somehow.

Anxiously, I looked over my shoulder at the approaching red, before I felt a tug on the rope. I looked back to Jacob, who was turning to look at something else. The other glow surged in color, though it kept a warm tint to it, before shining gold once again. Silver, on the horizon. A blur caught my attention out of the corner of my eye and I spun around to face it, but the shadows were too fast and –

I woke up.

* * *

A/N: You get no mercy from me (just as Anya got none from her dreams)... yet. Most things will get revealed in due time. I'll toss you guys a bone: remember, no Renesmee imprint means no shape-shifter-vampire alliance and standoff against the Volturi. Therefore, no explanation that the La Push shape-shifters are not "true" werewolves. Therefore, everyone is in the dark. ;) Yeah, yeah, yeah, it was short, but quality of quantity? I'm not at the level where I can churn out 5K chapters every week, sorry.

Things _will_ pick up faster now, I promise. Every little thing in this chapter was chosen for a reason and has meaning. Feel free to speculate, but my lips, er, typing fingers, remain sealed... or restrained.


	9. playing catchup

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Chapter Eight

* * *

A door, I could hear a door opening. The sound was followed swiftly by footfalls and a loud thud of something dropped.

"You look like hell," Leah observed in what sounded like a carefully calm voice.

"I sort of don't feel it."

"Only sort of?" Her smile was evident in her tone. "What happened?"

"That's the thing... I don't know." I closed my eyes and take care to keep my body relaxed, as though still asleep as they re-entered the living room. A small gust of air breezed over me with their entrance; the dual scents of the two people were striking in their similarity in spite of their differences. Leah, like Jacob, smelled like something I could only faintly connect with the wilderness, with a forest.

"She's... different, somehow," there was a hint of suspicion and a good dose of confusion to Leah's voice. "Did she... Was she –"

Jacob leapt to my defense for whatever reason: "_No_." His deep voice was solid and full of conviction. There wasn't a single trace of uncertainty in that emphatic word. "We'd know. For sure. She isn't... not... she's not..." _I'm not what? _I didn't speak aloud, though the question threatened to burst from my very skin with its insistence.

"Then what _did_ happen?" Her breathing was off somehow, a little too fast.

"Now, that, we don't know."

"Obviously..." The word was more of a sigh than of speech.

"Obviously." A creaking sound followed. An old chair being sat on, perhaps? Who I guessed was Jacob did not sit, for the sound of the footsteps that followed as he paced were much heavier than Leah's lighter, more rhythmic footfalls.

After a pause, I dared to open my eyes.

"Sup?" Leah asked nonchalantly. When I looked at her, the look of focused interest in her brown eyes was at odds with the casual, almost bored, tone.

"Anya! Are you okay?" Jacob was instantly at my side after moving with dizzying speed. Instantly self-conscious, I rose up to sit, thankful for the steadying hand on my shoulder that he offered.

"Yes." I started shoving at my doubtlessly-unkempt hair, to which he responded by running his hands (gently) through it. He didn't seem to even notice the action, not even looking at what he was doing as he absently (and seemingly half-heartedly) tried finger-combing the hair. I wasn't sure whether to be thankful for the gesture or question if he was closer to our primate ancestors than most humans were. The thought made me bite back a smile.

"She's not a dog," Leah pointed out, amusement heavy in her voice.

Jacob blinked and stopped. I grinned to show there was no hard feelings. "Should I wag my tail?" I joked, feeling oddly light-hearted in spite of... everything. Jacob's answering smile was brilliant.

"Did you get in a fight with the local mutt pack?" Any witty retort was zapped by my piqued interest at Jacob's warning glance over his shoulder to Leah. _What did that mean, just now? _

Not to mention how she wasn't far from the mark. _Teeth, glinting in the moonlight. Distant bonfires and _blood_, bloodbloodblood. _"Anya?" Even I could tell that my answering smile had occurred too quickly and was too happy to possibly be genuine.

"I just had the weirdest dream." Maybe another subject would deflect it a bit... but it may have been too sudden. "Not that it's anything important. Sorry for... er... stealing your couch?" I glanced down at the 70's-print and the vibrant Afghan blanket that was wrapped around me. "And... um... I don't have any clothes on." Leah snickered and Jacob flushed bright red. My own cheeks heated up, but I had taken enough showers in locker rooms to not be as affected as some may have been.

"I...Er..." Jacob stumbled over his words and Leah was as cool as a cucumber, as if having naked strangers in the room wasn't all that big of a deal.

"I brought your bag. It's by the door. I can –" _My bag? Oh, shit. _They'd surely question me if they knew just what was _in_ that bag. "– or not."

In what very well could have just been the blink of an eye, Jacob had retrieved the bag and already had it next to me on the couch. That was fast.

"He likes to play fetch," Leah remarked with a ghost of a smirk on her face.

Ignoring the taunt, "Are you hungry? I can get you a sandwich or something. We have Top Ramen? Real gourmet, I know."

"Not everyone's as infatuated with that stuff as you are, Jake."

"Ramen's fine." I'd practically lived off of bulk-packs of that shit back in training. We all had.

"Okay!" Politely, they both disappeared into the hall. I assumed that's the direction that the kitchen was. I swiftly pulled out my last clean set of clothes and dressed in near-record-time, but not before giving myself a super-quick once-over. My skin was as smooth as before, my right calf as ugly as ever, but there was no evidence (that I could see) of... I struggled to try and feel my back a bit, flinching at what felt like some raised skin. _The bastard got me. _If there wasn't any physical reminders, I could have pretended that it never happened. There was "evidence," now, though.

"Are you planning on asking her anything?" I heard Leah easily enough over the hum of the microwave and the two or three walls between us.

"I don't want to rush this. She doesn't need to remember if she doesn't want to."

"You said she was hurt, on the phone."

"Yeah, she _was_."

"What if there's a leech out there?"

"If it was a vampire... we'd know."

...

Wait, what?

"But if there's something out there... what if it's one of us?"

"One of...?"

_Maybe it's a codeword of some kind. Yeah, that's probably it. _I couldn't get the image of that _thing_'s teeth out of my head.

"Like another werewolf."

_Just a codeword._

"Her back was ripped." There was something borderline-mechanical about his voice, as if it took great effort to say. "Her whole... it... blood..."

"Jake," there was sympathy in her tone. "She's okay."

"But she wasn't." He... cared. _No shit, Sherlock. _Why would he, though? Me, a stranger? Him, a ridiculously attractive guy who happened to walk around without a shirt. Not that... Not that I was complaining. "She wasn't."

"We'll figure it out. But we need to ask –" The microwave's sharp beeping cut her off. "She'll probably want a hot pad. She's not like us." There was a teasing note at the end, but it still struck me the wrong way. _Not like us. What does _that_ mean? Why would they use such silly codewords? Codewords for what? Was there something at work here if they needed to speak in code? _I double-checked to make sure my backpack was still zipped tight. _Someone wants you dead, Jacob Ephraim Black. But who? But why? Are you hiding something? _What was going on in La –

"_Bon appétit_," Jacob announced, handing me the bowl.

"Thank you so much!" You never really realize just how positively _ravenous_ you are until there's the simply _divine_ scent of chicken-flavored Ramen wafting up into your nose. _I should marry this guy, _I joked to myself as I used great effort to not just inhale it all. This bowl could not possibly be enough! I'd eat a thousand of these, easy, and still be hungry for more...

"You knew my name." The words nearly tumbled over themselves; I had little doubt they'd been blurted. Jacob's widened eyes confirmed this when I glanced over to him with a mouth full of noodles. Hastily, I swallowed in spite of the burn in my throat as it raced down my esophagus.

"Pardon?" I asked this as soon as my mouth was no longer full.

"Er... when you woke up. You said my name."

"I don't remember saying your name today and –"

"I meant... before... Yesterday. In the garage." I was uncomfortably aware of Leah's level gaze after she sat down on that creaky old chair. "You said 'Jacob Ephraim Black.' I didn't tell you my middle name." _Damn. _Now I remembered. Kind of._  
_

"Are you... sure?" I played dumb.

"Yeah."

I couldn't exactly get away with _"Lucky guess," _that was for sure. "Then how would I know your middle name?" I tried for a half-smile at the very least.

He shrugged. "Nevermind."

"Anya, what happened?" Both of our gazes turned to Leah when she asked that question. Mine was hard to describe, while Jacob's was sharp and reproachful. She didn't seem fazed. "Jacob said you were hurt," she added with little inflection.

"I... I think I was." Uneasily, I looked at the ground.

"You _were_," Jacob practically growled.

"But I'm fine now. It's fine, really." I looked at him cautiously.

"I'm not saying you're not okay now, but... do you remember what happened?" There was an air of authority to her voice; a sense of strength and power seemed to radiate from her for a second. Something fluttered in my stomach, before she blinked and the pressure disappeared. Frowning, I tried to think of how to respond without showing what I had just felt.

"Er... I was at First Beach, taking pictures."

"When?" Jacob asked this, his brow lowered but his eyes held a great deal of concern in them.

"At... night. I don't even remember what day it was, to be honest. I don't... remember much. I don't know." How was I supposed to explain _teeth_? Teeth that gleamed in my mind's eye even for the split-second that I _blinked_? Should I even?

"Was it a bear? Did you get mauled?" Mauled... that seemed like a good enough word. Bears didn't have long snouts and sharp, pointed ears, though. I shook my head in the negative.

"Nah, not a bear... maybe just a dog. But a really big one." Instantly, I thought of the drive to La Push. That "dog" had been absolutely enormous, very wolf-like... but he'd been dark, this monster had been light.

"Like... Collin?" _Collin._ Sam's dog. That was it.

I ignored the voice in my head that snapped about not saying much, playing dumb, getting out of here. I didn't _want_ to leave. "Sort of. Not really."

"You seem calm." Jacob's arm, one I hadn't realized had snaked around me, tightened a fraction at Leah's observation.

_Calm. Am I calm? _"I'm not." I imagined I had bottled electricity in my veins, but for now the seal held tight. "Not at all. It..." As if I'd jinxed it, I felt as if the seal was weakening. "I-I was just trying to help the guy out. Really. He was... he was..." Seal was opening... "He was _weird._ In the worst of ways. H-h-he just... I thought he was a druggie, ODed or something. Normal street stuff, nothing special, except it was _here_. At some picturesque beach and I..." I kept babbling on even as Jacob cradled my face in his hands. I looked into his dark eyes, but I didn't see them anymore. Normally I'd laugh at the sheer incoherence of my speech, but I was suddenly a slave to the memory. "Something happened. I don't know what, I don't, Jacob, Leah, I don't. I'm sorry. Everything's _different. _But. I. Don't. Know. How. And it sounds crazy and I don't even believe my own thoughts and maybe I just am losing it and this is all just and I'm... I-I-I–"

"Anya... Whoa, you're so cold..." And he was so _warm._ It was the good kind of warm, though, I was sure of it. I didn't realize I was shivering until he embraced me and I could revel in his heat; I didn't realize I was crying (of all things) until he wiped the the tears away. Oh, this was flat-out laughable to me (had it not been so decidedly _not_ funny)! If I'd been told a month ago what would happen I'd think the messenger was bat-shit insane. "It's okay, it's okay, Anya, you're okay..." He repeated it over and over until I almost believed it, if only for a moment.

* * *

"I'm sorry for my breakdown." I didn't even try and imagine what a horrific sight I must have been. Amazing what finishing another bowl of noodles will do for one's mood, though.

"You have no reason to be." He'd been like this... it must have been an ingrained part of his personality; this overly-concerned trait of his... but it still gave me pause, briefly.

"You're alright now?"

"Absolutely." I replied, looking at Leah.

"You... You said he changed. Physically. Into... something else."

"Leah." I flinched at the sheer vehemence in Jacob's tone, but that's not what really made me start. No, it was just like with Leah earlier, this instant change in demeanor. That flutter returned, accompanied by a proverbial weight on my shoulders. He quickly apologized, which relieved that "weight" and allowed me to unclench my fists. Leah seemed more alert than previously, but she didn't press. This was all so surreal and weird that I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up, realizing it was just a dream.

"It's fine... yeah, he-he did." Damn that stuttering business to hell! But I couldn't seem to help it.

"A wolf." Leah was getting me to continue, despite the starts and stops.

"Yes."

"What did he look like?"

"Pale. Horribly pale." I had little doubt that Jacob, even though he was beside me and therefore out of sight as I looked at Leah, had a frown that matched hers. I wasn't sure why. "On the skinny side, too." Before Leah could ask anything else, I let myself be emboldened by the lack of stuttering in the last two-point-three seconds. "I..." _Dammit._ "I overheard you guys. In the kitchen. Not that I was, er, eavesdropping," I added hastily. "I just... I swear I hear _everything_."

With an obviously-forced, somewhat nervous laugh, Jacob said: "Overheard... what, exactly?"

"You said 'vampire.' And 'werewolf.'"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Yeah?" Leah finally shrugged, nonplussed.

"What did you mean by that? Because I swear... I swear to God, whatever that... _thing_ did... It..."

"Anya... It's a long –" Jacob began, but he was cut off.

A loud howl rang out, undeniably lupine in nature. I leaned back to try and get both of them in my field of vision, failed, but judging from Leah's face there was a silent exchange in expressions between them that I missed. Scant moments later, more howls sounded, closer and (dare I presume) more alarmed.

"Anya, I will explain soon. I promise you that. I'll... we'll... be right back." A pained look crossed his face before the two of them, faster than my eyes could track, disappeared.

"Well, fuck." I grumbled to myself, too shocked to really do anything at that moment. _Do I sit here, helpless? Do I have many options? _Most people don't flee a room at... at inhuman speed at the sound of wolves, of all things. Weren't they endangered down here in the lower 48, anyway? Even if it was Washington state.

I stood on unsteady legs before reaching down and hauling my pack up and onto one of my shoulders. Ignoring the thought that decided I was like a doomed character in a horror movie, you know, the one you scream at (through the TV) to: "Whatever you do, do NOT go in that room, damn you! No! No, no, no! Don't – _ugh. _You idiot!" If I were in a movie, I was quite sure I'd been demoted to that role.

_I have to check in with Niall etc, anyway. _How was I going to explain _this_, whatever it was?

After finding the kitchen and putting the used bowl in the sink, I strode toward the door, but hesitated before touching the handle. _If they can run off at the drop of a hat... why can't I? _With that thought, I pulled the wooden door open.

Only to now be looking straight into _his_ eyes.

* * *

A/N: Full speed ahead?

Thank you so very much kallie2915 and Kinetic Kat for reviewing the last chapter. I fear I've lost a few readers/reviewers with the last few chapters, sigh.


	10. sit, stay, relax wait, what?

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Chapter Nine

* * *

The sight of him is... indescribable.

The smell of him is unfathomable.

I freeze, at a loss of what to do.

A thousand unpleasant sensations slither like snakes through me, all of them akin to fear, repulsion, anger, while a thousand more feelings somewhere in-between those burn at their edges.

"Beautiful," he breathes, and while the word is complimentary, the tone – his voice, his face, _everything_ about him – is far from it.

Rage. Pure, unadulterated rage courses through me like liquid fire, burning through my veins and charging under my skin. I hear a roar – and neglect to realize that it is one I've made myself – and launch myself at him. Him, monster, enemy, hated.

I forget everything I have been trained. _Play defense. Taunt them, make them come at you and then exploit any weaknesses that come from their reckless actions. _Instead, _I_ am the one who acts recklessly. Instead, _he_ is the one who knees me in the gut and pins me to the ground – but I don't feel a thing. His skin. I don't want to see it. Morbidly, I want nothing more than to rip – "And strong." I can hear the unspoken ending: _but not strong enough._ It only fuels my efforts, but, frustratingly, I find myself unable to get out of his grip. The pressure of his hands on my arms reminds me of slime, but his grip is firm. I want to vomit and I want to rip his throat out.

Sounds. Thudding against the dirt, rhythmic but urgent at the same time. He's sickly-pale. His eyes are so light, it's as if the irises aren't even there at all, just a tiny pinhole of a pupil mars the white surface. "Later," it's a threat, one I want to end – _could _end (if I could get the upper hand) – but, ultimately, am unable to. "You're too stressed, Beauty. First you must_ Stay. _Then, you're going to _Relax._"

Pressure builds in my chest, like a thousand freight trains stacked neatly across my collarbone, crushing my lungs until I can only wheeze. He flees, but I barely notice. _What. The. Fuck?_

In the corner of my eye, I see a dark, reddish blur, but only briefly. Not a second later, Jacob is at my side. "Anya!"

A moment passes and the pressure is released. Gasping, I sit upright, clutching my throat now as if I'd been choking.

"OhGodohgodohgodohgodohgod, AnyaAnyaAnya–" it's as if he's hyperventilating, too.

"I'm fine," I croak, still trying to catch my breath... which is surprisingly hard now that his arms are around me, even if his embrace is reassuring and not suffocating. "I'm fine... I need to –"

"_Rest._ You need to –"

"No," I snap with more irritation than I truly feel. "He needs to –"

"He?" His confusion is brief, however. "He is _nothing_. Is nothing, has been nothing, _will be nothing. _Forget about him, Anya." The conviction in his face almost convinces me to. Almost.

I shake my head. "No. No, no, I will –"

He pulls me up as if I weigh nothing. The reassuring warmth keeps me from struggling, even as all my instincts are screaming to _run_, to _pursue_, to_ kill._ "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

"Then who's gonna save you?" I mumble, suddenly feeling quite...

_Sleepy..._

_

* * *

_ "What do you mean, 'her tracker hasn't moved in two days?'" Carrie DeZarn asks, frowning at Niall, who looks startlingly unkempt today.

"'What do you mean, 'her tracker hasn't moved in two days?''" He mimics in a whiny, high-pitched voice, gesturing madly with his arms. "What do I mean, really? Oh, it must be a philosophical question, you know, 'cause I'm _deep_ like –"

"Niall."

"I mean exactly that. Her damned tracker hasn't moved in two days. Its coordinates say it's at... a beach."

"Maybe she went swimming." it's a weak-ass explanation and she knows it; she rakes her hand through her blonde waves with a short breath.

"They're implanted in our fucking hips, Carrie. They're not gonna jiggle loose if you start –"

"So you think she's...?" She didn't dare finish the sentence.

"I don't think she's anything yet. That's what you're there for, to go see what the fuck happened."

"Why not send a clean-up–" She didn't even get the chance to finish this one.

"We don't need a fucking CU. Not yet." Niall's glaring at her now, as if her implication was out of line when it certainly wasn't. "Investigate first, when it comes to our own. You know that."

"Of course," she says, after a brief pause. "So, where to?"

* * *

A/N: Short, but I had to get back into the writing groove.

Thank you so freaking much, jacobluver113, laurazuleta18, and AchyBreakyJakey for reviewing the last chapter. The wait has been unforgivably long; I will not even try and use flimsy excuses.


	11. the wolf

**The "I" Word**  
by Lexa Rawr

Chapter Ten

A/N: It has been a long time since I updated, I know! I made a few minor revisions to old chapters - please read those before reading this chapter even if you've read this story prior to this April update! I'm sorry for the inconvenience. It's been so long that maybe a refresher wouldn't be a bad idea, anyway.  
As for why this took so long... Real life is a bitch. I have no excuses but I apologize all the same.

* * *

I opened my eyes.

Again, I am assaulted by sounds that I know, but it feels too much like I shouldn't have been able to hear them. The fan whirring in the bathroom. The refrigerator humming at a volume that seems too great. Deep, level breathing nearby.

Breathing. _Jacob._ I looked over, studying him briefly. He was slumped over in the armchair, sleeping. A lone lamp was on in the room, casting everything in the vicinity with a warm glow. The light seemed to make noise, but I wasn't sure why.

Slowly, carefully, I began to slide the knitted Afghan off of me. The blanket rustled against the sides of the couch and my legs - I froze when Jacob shifted in his sleep. I waited a moment, but he didn't wake up. Relieved, but cautious as ever, I sat up. Resisting the urge to stretch, I stood, going to great lengths to remain silent. I couldn't count the number of times when I had been forced to be stealthy - adrenaline-fueled times where one misstep could easily have cost me my life - but I couldn't remember it ever being this easy.

With each step, there was what could only be described as the faintest of echos. It was as if I could gauge where there would be a creak, simply by the sound of the previous step. _Weird. _That had never happened before. Maybe the floor here was just that noisy.

On silent feet, I crept through the hall, avoided a wooden plank that could have made a sound, and made it to the door. Electricity danced inside my fingertips and toes, as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff. Anxiety lurked in my gut, but there was a yearning within me beyond belief, one that crooned and soothed, making promises that once I was outside I would be -

"Anya?"

His voice was sleepy, I noted once I whirled around to face Jacob, but his eyes were wide-awake. Reaching back to rub the back of my neck, as though I, myself, was still tired when energy pumped through my veins like molten fire through an icy glacier, "I... ah... woke up." Why did my voice sound so loud when I was sure it was supposed to be quiet?

"I see."

I tried for a smile, but it didn't really work.

"What were you doing?"

"I was..." What _was_ I doing, exactly? Well, I was planning on lying anyway, so it probably didn't matter. "...going for a walk."

"A walk." His tone was the epitome of skepticism and I looked at my feet.

"Yeah, I like to exercise first-thing in the -"

"You were going on a walk at eleven o'clock at night?" _Dammit._

"...yeah?" His answering stare, which I felt rather than saw, told me that it wasn't going to work. I said nothing.

"Anya..."

"It's... uh, nothing. Really." I hated how... dumb... I sound. The so-called "Ditzy dorky act" isn't such an act anymore. I crossed my arms and frowned at him, trying a different approach. "I actually don't think there's much of a reason for me to be here."

"What?"

"I... I don't even know what _day_ it is –"

"Anya, you need to stay here."

"No. No, actually," I shook my head, "I don't. I really don't." He took a step towards me and I twisted the door knob. In a flash, his hand was secured around mine, holding it – and the door – in place. "Let me go!" I jerked against his grip, but it held firm. Everything blurred and darkened and brightened, like a bad Photoshop filter.

"Anya, listen to me –"

"Let. Me. _Go_." My voice sounded foreign to my own ears. Maybe it did to his, too, because he stilled and it was all I needed. The energy that danced in me reared up and the next thing I knew: Jacob was flung back against the ground a few steps away from me (had I shoved him that hard?), and I had the door open (had I moved that fast?), and the air was crisp (something in me stirred), and I could smell –

"Anya!" The sound of footsteps, quick and rapid but further away, answered his shout – Leah, I guessed – before his own, heavier footfalls followed.

The electricity became more reminiscent of fire, burning under my skin. The moon, or the three-quarters that I could see, was so impossibly bright. I stopped to stare at it like a spectator at the most glorious sports event in the world. My eyes began to ache from its searing light so much that I looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tanned arm reach for me. Faster than I had thought possible, I stumbled away, the world blurring around me briefly until I came to an unsteady halt. My name was called, again, and again, but a roaring in my ears began to block it out until I didn't care.

I could _feel_ it, no, _her._ I could feel her inside of me, clawing and howling like a prisoner beating the door of his cell. _"Run," _she snarled, in my mind in a voice that only seemed partly my own, like an echo.

Pain flashed across my spine as if a miniature plane had struck me. I doubled over, painfully aware of the moon's weight that both pushed and pulled. _Since when did light weigh anything?_

I gasped as my throat constricted, as if something were choking me. Scents, foreign but familiar somehow, assaulted me and _she_ was in an all-out panic. _"Let go!" _She screamed so loud that _I_ screamed – but the scream of shock morphed into one of agony as I felt like all my bones were shattering. I cracked open an eye I hadn't realized was closed to look at my hand. In that instant, I realized that they _were._

My scream morphed into something else, something inhuman caught between a howl and a whine. I collapsed to my hands and knees – no, not my knees... my feet. But everything was so much lower!

Her voice was seductive: _"Give in." _She whispered promises in my ears, assured me that she knew what needed to be done. We would be _safe_, she promised. We would be _free_, she promised. I wouldn't need to _worry_, she said, _"there is no reason to be frightened."_ My heart skittered in my chest and, again, I was aware of voices. She sounded so confident, this voice...

It was like falling into too deep of water and being unable to swim.

I sunk deep into the recesses of my own mind, dimly aware of a silver blur passing by me during my descent.

_"I will protect us."_

I believed her and let myself fall.

* * *

The Wolf had made a promise to her Guardian and she intended to keep it while she could. With the Moon for strength, she would protect the Guardian to the best of her ability. A reversal of roles, perhaps, but the Wolf did not worry. This was not wrong. Her Guardian was not weak – young, yes, but not weak. Her Guardian would protect her from the Sun, that was payment enough. She had suffered during the Transition and the Wolf was sorry for it. Their Guide had been unwise and reckless.

The Moon's pull was weaker than it could be, but strong enough to hold for the night – already the Wolf could tell. While the Moon hid a fraction of her face, which saddened the Wolf – she would mourn the darkness later.

There were other wolves circling her, she noticed, but they were different. Wrong, somehow. She did not like them. Their eyes were human, wide and confused. Impostors, she thought. They knew nothing of the Hunt, the Moon, or what it even was to be Wolf. The Wolf curled her lip at them, warning them not to get too close. She would rip the throat out of anyone who dared to even try.

One was Alpha. The Wolf knew this just by looking at him and his scent confirmed it. The russet-colored wolf was the largest and she hazarded a guess that he was likely the strongest – as any leader should be. Regardless, he was _their_ Alpha, not hers. Still... something about him gave her pause.

He was too optimistic about her sudden hesitation, for he advanced a step toward her. The Wolf growled menacingly, crouching in preparation for an incoming attack. The Alpha was smart enough to stop, though the Wolf was disappointed that he was not suitably frightened of her. He was larger, yes, taller, yes... perhaps her odds were not as good as she had thought. Her ears flicked back, flattening against her skull as her lips closed once again. Wolves were not liars – she hid nothing, even from her enemies. Even if these wolves were not truly Wolf.

She side-stepped, toward the smaller ones. Perhaps she could startle them into breaking the line so she could make her escape. A low growl caught her attention – they were unfazed by her almost-approach. She bared her teeth at them in rebuke, but looked at the Leader once again when she saw movement in her peripheral vision.

He was agitated. Even though he was not truly Wolf she could read him like one. His tail lashed out at the air behind him and his dark eyes were narrow – but there was no aggression in his stance. Frustration overruled anger in his features. He caught her eye, though, and the Wolf was shocked to realize he was attempting to initiate a Bond. Outraged at his gall, the Wolf retreated a step and snarled. Her hackles bristled and a growl rumbled from her throat. A few answering growls from several wolves-not-Wolves followed, but the Wolf paid them no mind.

Instead, she stalked right up to the Alpha, angered by his clumsy attempts to tie her to them. The Wolf was no puppet – there were no strings for him to pull and the Alpha should have known that. The Wolf was about equal in size to the subordinates, larger than several, but smaller than the Alpha. The Wolf knew she would likely not win in a fight against him – but she had not Transitioned only to be bound once again. She bit back a growl at the mere thought of being Bonded to anything when she had only just been freed. The Wolf had promised her Guardian, however, so she had to tread carefully. She could not afford to instigate a fight she could not win for the sake of her pride if it would cost her Guardian as well.

The Wolf inclined her head as the Alpha tucked his chin closer to his throat. They were testing each other – testing to see if either was planning to attack. The Alpha stood stock-still and the Wolf did the same. She could feel him, them, at the edges, like an intruder on her territory. The Wolf was not sure how he was doing it – Bonds had to be mutual. The Wolf had no desire to link herself to the Alpha. He should not have even been able to tempt the fringes of the Wolf's – and, consequently, Guardian's – mind.

Unless...

_No._ The Guardian was safe, her spirit resting within. The Guardian had no control over such things.

But, in that moment, the Wolf had wavered.

It was all the Alpha had needed, with his overbearing gaze and outstretched mind.

Furious, the Wolf launched herself at him in a final bid to break any Bond, but the she underestimated the Alpha's reflexes. In an instant, the Wolf found herself pinned to the ground with the Alpha's teeth at her throat. An indignant, but notably muted, growl escaped her, though she quickly fell silent in acknowledgment of her predicament.

The Alpha tested the Bond like a pup dipping his toes into icy water, as if he knew nothing of what it meant. The Wolf glared up at him even as he released his (albeit gentle) grip of her neck. He stared down at her, confusion in his eyes but annoyance pulling at his brow.

_"You fumble around in our mind, Alpha." _The Wolf taunted him even as she allowed herself to fall limp with apparent defeat. _"What trickery did you use to accomplish the Bond?"_

_"Bond?" _His voice is tentative, a contrast to the dominance in his tensed posture. The Wolf hears the other wolves-not-Wolves shift anxiously nearby like the restless adolescents they probably are. _"Aren't you Pack?" _

Amused: _"I forsake Packs long ago." _Not as amused: _"Answer my question."_ She expected a reprimand for daring to order an Alpha, but instead he replied with no hesitation.

_"I don't know what you mean." _The Wolf found no deceit in his eyes or their newly-made Bond. _"I only meant to accept you into the Pack."_

_"We are not yours to accept." _The Wolf shot back hotly._  
_

_"We? What... who... are you?"_

_"I am Wolf. You are not. I share my form with my Guardian." _Loathe as the Wolf was to speak of such things, _especially_ her Guardian, she was Bound to the Alpha. _"You have created a Bond. Surely you must know how."_

_"What have you done with Anya?" _The Wolf assumed that Anya was a nickname for the Guardian._  
_

_"Anneliese is safe. I protect her and she protects me." _Apparently, the answer was not satisfactory to the Alpha, for there was a flash of fangs and once again her throat was gripped by his jaws. Through the Bond, the Wolf was aware of his rage – though what it was directed at, she did not know. The Wolf had forgotten what it was like to feel fear. It was chilling, the prospect of being Bound to one who would harm.

_"What the hell is going on?" _The words were heavier, laced with Order. Instinct ruled that the Wolf must respond and make every effort to obey.

_"I am Wolf and she is Guardian and I can only be safe when the moon is there to guide me. You are not Wolf, not like I am. You created a Bond where there shouldn't be one. I did not consent to such a thing and yet it happened. I fear that I am not good enough if I cannot protect the Guardian from another's will. Our Transition was not smooth and our Changes will be painful for some time as a consequence." _The Wolf whimpered, not sure what she was meant to say.

_"I don't understand... you took over Anya's mind?"_

_"We are two sides of the same coin now, Alpha. This mind is not mine to have, but the Guardian was frightened. I have Instinct to guide me where the Guardian does not. Our Guide was unsuitable for the duty. Time will make the separation nonexistent."_

_"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Let her go!"_

_"I only seek to protect," _the Wolf tried to assure him, but the weight of the Order was too great. With regret at the forefront of their mind, the Wolf closed her eyes. This was not how the first Run was meant to be, but the double-hit from both the Alpha's Order and the Bond's Demand gave the Wolf no choice.

Murmuring apologies to the Guardian who knew so little, the Wolf pulled back obediently.

* * *

I opened my eyes.


End file.
